


The Red Record

by ElizaXSpears



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angels, Angst, Betryal, Child Death, Death, Demonic Possession, Demons, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Follows the anime timeline and takes place after season 2, Love Confessions, M/M, Murder, Romance, Suicide, Unrequited Love, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-10 23:03:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7864960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaXSpears/pseuds/ElizaXSpears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You had locked me away for centuries, hidden me away so that I may be forgotten. Now, I am sought after by every creature that can sense me. When my book is open, the world will pay for trapping me away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm well aware of this being a repost of the story I had started months *cough* years *cough* ago, but I'm starting fresh with a lot of my stories and so far, I'm liking how this one is going compared to my 1st, 2nd and 3rd version of this story (yes, this is the 4th version. I suck lol) I feel I've grown as a writer quite a lot and have officially learned to not post the 1st draft of a story like I had been doing because I'm an idiot. Anyway, I have a lot of projects on the go but I have a system going where I can write quite a long time without burning myself out. I plan to finish this one this time. I swear.

With the silence in his office only broken by the clacking of his fingers on the typewriter he owned since his promotion to Management, his mind was only set on work. The sun deprived pale skin of his fingers clad in black gloves, his eyes flicked between each word, periodically switching to the papers neatly scattered across his desk. Working like this came as a second nature to him, his body ignoring the many kinks forming in the back of his neck, down his spine.

Removing his hands from the keys, he picked up his fountain pen. Reading over the ivory sheet, he precisely signed his name at the bottom, setting the finished form on the slowly growing ‘complete' pile. His job consisted of this and double checking the Death Lists before sending it out to his Reapers in the Retrieval Division. Some believed he would kill over from boredom from his monotonous job, but he quite liked things running without hiccups. His only reason for leaving his office was for the coffee or tea in the break room. Occasionally, he’d need to push up his glasses from sliding off his nose; the rectangular shaped spectacles with four decorative lines on each arm were a sign of his graduation from the academy.

Stretching out his arms while clasping his hands together, he pushed his palms out to release a satisfying crack from his knuckles. His chartreuse phosphorescent eyes (a trait of all Grim Reapers) already reading over the next document; a scythe request he was to authorize. His narrow eyes narrowed even further, thin lips remaining in a thin line with a twitch downward at the idiotic request; balling up the paper and tossing it into the bin next to his desk.

Grasping his pen again, he penned his reply to the reaper about their scythe application, ordering them to be realistic with their request. His other hand that was left without anything to do, brushed a strand of raven black hair back into its normal position with the rest of his perfectly combed locks.

This was work for normal for William T. Spears, working diligently behind his dark oak mahogany desk. He was always concentrated in his work, the reapers daring to enter his office for receiving lists they missed upon distribution or turning in their paperwork, often only spoke short and sweet to be sure the disturbance to William’s work was quick. Of course, there was always one that loved causing distractions.

It sometimes bothered him how so many of his reapers thought he’d go mad just only doing this day in and day out; how much trust did his reapers really have in him was a question he found, annoyingly, asking himself often. He once thought of being a field reaper, back in his academy days, but after the Thomas Wallis incident, he found it harder and harder to place himself in the Retrieval Department. Those memories remained to haunt him to this day, only leaving with a hard shake of his head. Emotions had no place in the Realm of Reaper. After all, he needed to remind himself, Wallis’s death wasn’t any different from any other; murder, sickness, accidental, everything in between. It was meant to be his job; the fact he shed tears viewing the boys Cinematic Record gave him the urge to slap himself and really, the only reason why he was here was because their death deserved to be punished so the Higher Ups believed.

Realizing he halted in his writing to reminisce, he hastily finished his reply. Setting the pen down to fold up the direct letter he then set it aside, making a mental not to deliver it when he was up for a cup of tea. His attention, now, was on the death lists, having seen the time on the clock on the wall in his peripheral vision. The pages of the ‘to die’ list were kept in a black ledger, each page printed precisely with every detail about the mortal, each ledger containing twenty pages of different mortals to reap. It just so happened that the ledger he first picked up to skim through had to belong to _him_ of all reapers. At first, all the pages looked to be in order, nothing out of place until landing on the last page. A young man was set to die at 4:37 pm. Cause of death was gunshot to the chest and bleeding out. Location…far too close to _that_ manor.

His eyebrow gave a twitch of annoyance wondering if the Higher Ups remembered the hell this place caused, or rather, who used to live there. Knowing he couldn’t leave that reaper to this death list with that junior of his, he snapped the ledger closed to assign him a temporary new partner. Standing from his desk, he straighten out his black suit jacket, the waistcoat and the perfectly pressed white dress shirt, gently tugging down at the hem of his gloves before he left his office to sort this out, remembering to bring the reapers scythe request return letter.

Black polished dress shoes clacked against the marble floors of the office building, the reapers he passed giving him respected greetings, simple head nods or the occasional ‘Good Morning Mr. Spears’. Seeing how the rest of the death lists were to go out in a few minutes, William quickly descended three flights of stairs to the office of Alan Humphries, his own office on the sixth floor Management level. Alan’s office was placed on the ‘search and retrieve’ floor, the younger reaper one of William’s star officers especially when he worked with his brute of a Higher Officer for his partner.

Arriving at his destination, he rapped the back of his hand on the office door in three deliberate knocks, death ledger held securely under his other arm. Seeing how this was urgent, he let himself in pleased to see Alan hard at work. He was sat at his desk, habitually nibbling at the end of his fountain pen while his eyes behind silver framed glasses read each document. The frayed bangs of his short brown hair hanging in wisps over his forehead were occasionally pushed aside before they fell back in place again. His uniform was exactly as William’s except instead of a silk tie with a double windsor knot, a bolo tie with a skull ornament was in its place, a gift for receiving straight A’s in the academy, graduating as an Honour Roll student. “Humphries.”

Having been so involved in his reading, the knocks and William’s entrance slipped passed him causing the sudden voice in his quiet office to startle him. The pen was instantly removed from his mouth while politely bowing his head. “Good morning sir.” he greeted. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Yes you can.” William stepped in front of Alan’s desk, slipping the death ledger from under his arm, placing it facing Alan on the desk surface. “I’m well aware of your reaping partner being Slingby however, I’d like you to be Sutcliffe’s for the day.”

“Pardon sir?” he questioned, picking up the ledger to read it through. “Why, if you don’t me asking.”

“There’s been a death located near a building Knox has reported that keeps Sutcliffe’s attention from his job.”

Thumbing through the pages, he found the page William spoke of, noting right away of the location. “Ah, I see.” he flipped it closed, standing as he did so. “Of course sir, I’ll be sure to try and keep Grell on track.”

“Excellent. Now, you’d best catch Sutcliffe before he decided to bound away believing he hasn’t any reaps.”

“Yes sir.” he bowed then excused himself, leaving the office briskly. Checking his watch to make sure he had enough time, he began wondering if he should double back to let Eric know he wasn’t going to be reaping with him today.

Just as he stepped foot on the second floor, his attention was snagged by a strong hand halting him by his bicep. “Whoa there lad. Where are ye goin’? I was jus’ comin’ tae get ye.”

Knowing very well who this was by the Scottish accent alone, Alan faced his reaping partner and old mentor, Eric Slingby. The deep voice fit his aspect well; wavy blonde hair that hung partly over one eye, the colour matching his goatee, black cornrows woven into the other side of his hair, blue tinted glasses resting on his nose. His suit was of equal irksome to him and William with him deviating from the work apparel to the point of having no waistcoat, a loose tie, the first button of his white dress shirt undone and a gold chain resting against his collar bone. Attached to his belt was a wallet chain and tassel but Alan found that item rather endearing as it belonged to a kilt, a part of his Scottish heritage stuck with him at all times, well, that and the accent. “I’m sorry Eric,” Alan apologized, showing the blonde the cover of the ledger, “but I won’t be reaping with you today. Mr. Spears wants me to keep an eye on Grell.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Eric crossed his arms. “Why the hell do ye gotta do tha’?”

Alan flipped open the ledger to the last page, rotating it to hold it up to Eric and pointing to the location. “Here.”

Leaning in to be sure he didn’t miss anything, he rubbed his chin while scanning the line, understanding immediately after reading. “Ah.” he nodded, straightening back up. “Aye, ye’d best watch ‘im.” he pat Alan encouragingly on the back. “Ye’d best get goin’ then. I’ll see ye when ye get back. Good luck.”

“I’ll need it.” he gave a short wave of parting then quickened his pace, knowing in another minute, Grell would be gone to do who knew what since he would have believed he didn’t have a list.

Jogging down the last flight of the stairs, he reached the lobby where he was able to spot the red head standing by the front office doors with his junior. Of course, spotting Grell Sutcliffe wasn’t hard, the red head often sticking out like a sore thumb especially in mortal London with his dark, long red hair and scary, sharp, shark-like teeth. If William complained about Eric’s uniform, he was highly displeased with Grell’s which had nothing at all similar to the rest of them save the black gloves. A brown vest, red and white striped bow tied around his neck, black and red high-heeled ankle boots all choices William and the Council didn’t approve of. Even the glasses were on the strange side, red in frame but accessorized with a chain and dangling skulls. The one thing that really bothered Alan about the outfit, of course never voicing his opinion, was the red coat he wore hanging off his shoulders and around his elbows. It was taken from an old flame, a Miss Madame Red or Baroness Angelina Dalles who was Grell’s old partner in crime when they were Jack the Ripper — an entire scenario most of dispatch wanted to forget.

Thankfully his junior, Ronald Knox, didn’t follow his mentors lead of the uniform choice. He was on the younger side of reapers with his blonde hair wavy and short as well as the bottom half dyed black. From his bangs, a permanent cowlick stuck up at the top right, glasses thick and pentagonal, a silver watch on his right wrist. The only deviation from the standard uniform was his white oxfords, shoes Ronald was quite fond of. That and his Italian tailored work suit. “Grell.” Alan addressed, approaching the two of then.

The red head faced Alan with that shark tooth grin; Alan feeling like a small animal being eyed up for a meal. “Yes dear? Better be quick. Ronnie and I were on our way out.” those often flirty eyes flicked down the ledger under Alan’s arm. “Oh! Are you delivering that to me~?”

“Actually,” he began, holding the death list in front of himself while shooting Ronald an apologetic look, “I’m reaping with you today.”

The young blonde whined, slumping over the handle of his lawnmower shaped scythe. “Wha’? Why? Aw, c’mon Alan-senpai! I was lookin’ forward t’ gettin’ out there.”

“I really am sorry Ronald, but it’s not my decision. If it were, I’d be finishing my paperwork. It was Mr. Spears who asked me to be Grell’s partner.”

“Ugh, but why? Is it ‘cuz somethin’ I did?”

Alan rapidly shook his head, resting his free hand on Ronald’s shoulder, assuring the younger reaper he wasn’t at fault for anything. “You didn’t do anything, so cheer up. Besides, you now have free time to chat up the girl in the Death Scythe department.”

Any semblance of misery Ronald had was wiped away at the mention of said girl. Instead, he grinned, running fingers through the loose locks of blonde hair. “Yeah, guess you’re right.” he moved off his scythe, the weapon dematerializing while he began walking backward toward the door clearly marked ’Death Scythe’. “Have fun with Grell!” he called out before disappearing behind the two metal double doors.

Again, Alan felt like he needed the good luck when faced with such a wild card. “Well, I suppose we should get these done and filed.” he said, ready to head out when Grell easily plucked the ledger from his grip. “Grell! Give that back!” he demanded, desperately trying to reclaim the object, knowing once Grell saw the location he’d be done for.

“Hold on a second!” the red head huffed. “Let me just a look. The souls aren’t going to bloody catch fire now are they?”  Easily, he kept Alan at bay, the brunette nearly akin to a puppy having his bone stolen with those eyes which almost made him return the ledger. Almost. When he did come to the page Alan was dreading, the red head grew a mischievous grin. “Well, now I see why Will switched our teams.” closing the ledger with a dull thud, he began walking away, tossing the item over his shoulder.

“Grell!” Alan gasped, hardly catching the ledger between the tips of his fingers. “You should be more careful with this!” he scolded, clutching it to his chest, “without it, we wouldn’t know where to reap meaning a demon could possibly steal the soul and that would be bloody hell for us! Also, we are not spending anymore time at the last reaping site then necessary, understood? We are only there to collect the mans soul then-mph!” 

The red heads pointer finger pressed against his lips. “Shush would you? Leave the prattling to Will.” removing his finger, he used the same hand to pat Alan’s head. “Now come alone darling. We have work to do~”

Without another word, Grell was already gone, fading away to appear in mortal London at the first soul. Alan checked a sigh, summoning his long handled Japanese garden slasher of a scythe then followed suit, arriving just as Grell slashed his chainsaw scythe through the cadavers chest, the Cinematic Records reeling up from the wound. This was their way of judging the souls. The Cinematic Records acted like brief movies through a film reel showing the reapers everything the mortal had done from birth to their death then filing away inside the reaper’s scythe were it was then to be transferred to a Cinematic Book when it would come to its final rest in the Great Library.

There wasn't any talk between them and if there was, it was Grell’s rambles about horrible dates and Alan naming off each flower they came across eventually shutting up when Grell had told him, “I don’t care about them love. Leave your flower talk between you and the handsome Scot…by the way, do you know if he’s seeing anyone at the moment?” Alan didn’t know and didn’t care. Eric’s personal life was just that, personal. If he had someone on the side and wanted to keep that to himself, by all means, let him.

The closer they came to finishing the list, the antsier Alan became. The closer they got, Alan took over looking through the list, hoping when they came to the last page, Grell would forget the manor just behind the thicket of trees and they could go home. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Alan had turned his back for one moment, collecting the Cinematic Record and when he turned back, Grell was already waltzing toward the tree line, swinging his scythe from side to side in front of him, swaying as he walked. “Grell! Where are you going?!”

“Where do you think?!” was Grell’s reply over his shoulder, a sultry wink followed after.

Alan just stared, somehow amazed that Grell was shrinking duty to visit a mansion he very well knew was abandoned. At a loss, he really had no choice but to follow.

 

_______________________________________

 

The manor stood completely still, nothing around it moved. With how active it used to be, seeing the once beloved mansion in such a state of disrepair was disheartening to the servants that once worked under the Lord who had taken them in. The garden that was once loved now dead, overgrown with weeds, veins climbing the old walls. Inside, dust covered everything that wasn’t decaying, a few of the windows were shattered. The only guests were the rare crows and now one raven. The Phantomhive manor had been burned to the ground once before, only built back up by the butler who served the young English Lord, Ciel Phantomhive. The boy had the infamous title of the Queens Watchdog, working for her majesty in the underworld of London.

Ciel had died to the rest of the world and left his servants with ownership to the mansion before disappearing on them three years ago, along with his butler. Did this place bring back any sort of memories for the raven? Yes, but the types of memories he wished to forget, the servants only giving him headaches. They had been useful, yes, but more times then not did he have to clean up their blunders. His only reason for returning whenever he could was a certain reaper he knew would be difficult to get a hold of since the damn man hardly left the realm.

Today seemed to be no different as the sun began setting, casting heavy shadows over the mansion; the decayed garden looking black as the night allowing him to blend in perfectly. There was no choice now, his master would be demanding him soon.

Set to leave, an odd sense of hope bubbled in his chest as the scent of a half decayed corpse entered his nose, soon after the sound rustling of the leaves belonging to the large oak tree he stood under entered his ears. Casting his gaze upward, he was both disappointed and thrilled to see Grell sitting on one of the thick branches. Who always came to retrieve Sutcliffe when he wasn’t working? Perhaps he could wait a bit longer. Though Sebastian did find it strange Grell of all reapers couldn’t tell he was standing right there but perhaps that was for the best. “I guess I couldn’t stop you from coming here.”

Hardly hearing Alan, he gave the younger reaper a halfhearted glance before continuing to ogle the building. “Not even Will could.” he sighed in a forlorn tone. “Darling,” he began, resting his chin on his hands, “I can’t help it. I try to keep alive my hope of one day coming back to find everything as it used to be, my darling Sebas-chan working away. Sometimes I even wish for that brat back so Sebby would be here.” patting the space next to him, he finally gave Alan his full attention. “Let’s have a small break and just talk for a bit.”

An unscheduled break could mean overtime which Alan hardly got but he was curious to why Grell was so infatuated with this demon. Thus he leant his scythe against the trunk of the tree before taking the offer spot, resting the death ledger next to his scythe. Gently swinging his dangling legs, he asked, “why can’t you just give up on this demon already?”

“I can’t!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Alan’s shoulders, resting his cheek to one. “My love for him is stronger then time. I cannot simply forget him even if centuries pass.”

Alan just looked at him in disbelief. “He’s a demon that devours souls making our job harder then it should be. I can’t fathom how you love such a creature.”

“Sebastian doesn’t steal souls from us. He’s a contracted demon, bound to that brat of a child. He preferred to wait for his meal then just take whatever was lying in the open.”

“He’s still a _demon_.”

“And he’s still attractive.” a dreamy sigh escaped him, snuggling closer to Alan. “Such ruby eyes that burn through my heart, glaring at me with enough hidden fire to light up my body in passion! Hands so cold as they wrap around my throat and squeeze, a voice smooth but dripping with such raw hunger,” shivering pleasantly, he jumped to his feet, narrowly avoiding colliding his head with Alan’s jaw, “the forbidden force that drives us closer!” he gushed to the heavens, swinging out his arms and thrusting his chest out as the light wind bristled through his hair and coat. “Without him to chase, to fear the law with, my life has become nothing but a tedious day job.” his arms snapped around himself, pretending the embrace was the very demon under the branch he stood on. “With him, I can defy the rules, push them aside to rush into Sebastian’s arms,” his cheeks began to grow red, “kissing him with our desire combining until I lay on his bed in nothing but a red silk robe while he slowly undresses for me, putting on a show, shimmying down his trousers tortuously slow until-”

“Enough!” Alan blurted, hands pressed tightly over his ears. “Please Grell, spare me from your fantasies.”

Grell blinked, his dreamy fog lifting enough to remember where he was. Blinking down at Alan, the red head scoffed. “Oh, Alan sweetie,” he chastised, taking Alan by the elbows to hoist him up, forcing him to stand next to him as well as forcing his hands down, “you need to understand the love I feel for him!”

“I _really_ don’t.” Alan pleaded, squirming in Grell’s secure hold.

Waggling his finger like a disappointed mother would, Grell continued, “Just listen. Our love is so unique, only written about in fairytales, hardly seen in reality. How we are forced apart by hate yet our love is far stronger, bringing us together like-”

“Romeo and Juliet, yes, I know.” Alan interrupted. “We’ve all heard you speak about them before, far too much actually.” he freed himself with one strong push, plopping back down to sit. “And anyway, aren’t you at all worried about the trouble you’ll be in if you ever live out your fantasy?” he questioned, straightening out the black fabric of his jacket sleeves.

His hand brushed away Alan’s concern, joining him back sitting on the branch. “I’ve already said, without Sebby, my life feels so incredibly empty.”

Alan folded his arms over his chest, keeping them tight there so Grell couldn’t grab him again. A long silence followed before he spoke up. “Grell…” he swallowed, licking this dry lips. “I…you should know why our job isn’t meant to be fun.”

“Of course I do dear, but I made my choice worthwhile.”

How unaffected Grell was by his words forced his gaze to drop to his lap. “…can’t you just go back to fawning over Mr. Spears?”

“As much as I can’t refuse a cold hearted man, Will’s still a reaper. Sebby was forbidden fruit, a demon.” his hands perched themselves on Alan’s shoulders. “If you could have met him, then you would have seen how wonderfully handsome he was.” his arms slid over Alan’s chest, wrapping around the smaller reapers torso, trapping his arms again.

“No thank you.” Alan muttered, trying to squirm out of Grell’s strong clasp. “I’ve met plenty of demons and not once have I found any of them attractive. I doubt your Sebastian would change that.”

“For as long as I’ve known you dear, you’ve yet to find _anyone_ attractive.” he held tighter, forcing Alan to be still.

“Because I plan to serve this punishment without extra handicaps, like a lover.” he wheezed.

Surprised, Grell’s hold immediately loosened. “Now you’re starting to sound like Will. Always so, so, _so_ very cold.”

Able to wiggle an arm free, he pushed up his glasses. “I’m not cold, just realistic, besides, I don’t think you care about this demon as much as you say you do.

“Why’s that?”

“You say the same things about Mr. Spears.”

Thinking for a moment, Alan was finally released. “Will and I have…different chemistry dear. As I am able to show my love, he’s far more…introverted and cruel.”

“Maybe so, but he also seems happy single.” Alan added, adjusting his bolo tie. “And if he is happy and you care like you say you do, shouldn’t you let him be happy?”

“Happy?” Grell laughed, flicking red strands over his shoulder. “He’s _lonely_ darling. He needs a woman in his life to give him the attention he needs!” he leant over, Alan freezing up when all Grell did was place his hand over Alan’s heart, using his other to gesture to mansion. “William is like this home. Broken, old, lost. He needs someone to enter those walls and give him the love and attention he needs then he’ll be able to shine again.”

Alan rolled his eyes, shoving Grell away from him. “You’re faaar to hopeful on that front. Mr. Spears won’t let anyone behind his walls as you should certainly know.”

“One day dear, he’ll come through. I just have to keep showering him with affection.” he clasped his hands to his own chest. “Wouldn’t you want that?”

“No.” Grell stared astonished at the younger reaper, Alan’s eyes now distant. “I want to live this punishment out how we are meant to. Alone and forced to watch the memories of those whose life is taken before their time, to those murdered to those who don’t make it past their first breath into the world.” his hands curled tightly into his fists on his thighs. “We are here because what we did was sinful thus we should take our punishment how we are meant too to begin with. Seriously and alone.”

With another shocked blink, Grell quickly dismissed Alan’s words with another offhand wave. “Someone’s off his medication again.” the red head missed Alan’s wince, the younger reaper drawing his legs closer to himself, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Sweetie, you say these things but have you forgotten Eric?” he prodded, hands on his hips. “Hm? The man who you’ve said is your closest friend?” Alan pressed his face into the top of his knees, Grell letting out a victory ‘ha’. “It’s alright dear. I know what you were trying to get at.”

Brow furrowed, Alan climbed back to his feet. “Anyhow, we have work to get back to. These souls won’t sort themselves.” he snatched back his scythe and leader. “I already failed keeping you away from here but I won’t be caught here to be chastised for not working. You know if he finds you, it’s-”

“Overtime.”

Grell squawked, tipping backward enough to do a full 180 and faceplant into the ground; Alan nearly tripping from the tree, William now standing where Grell sat. “Senpai” Alan gasped, quickly bowing. “I-I’m sorry! I tried, really! I-”

“I don’t blame you for this Humphries. By all rights, I should have been looking after this nuisance.”

“Oh Will!” the red head cried from below. “How dare you frighten a lady so!”

William jumped down, landing nearly silently in front of the reaper. He grasped a fist full of red locks, yanking Grell to his feet. “How often have you done this?” he demanded.

“Ow!” he whined, tugging at the strong grip then using the close proximity to his advantage, launching at William to secure him in an unwanted hug. “Oh, not too often.” he grinned up at his superior. “But if I knew stopping like this would make you come get me, I would have done even more often.” Locks still held in his hand, he yanked the red head away, forcing him back to the ground. “Oh, rude!” however the angle was perfect for admiring such a handsome reaper. The way the setting gave William a meanly aura around him, accenting brown hues in his midnight black hair, the cold stare heightened how the sun reflected off his lenses. “Mm,” he purred, sensually biting the tip of his thumb. “So handsome.”

William averted his eyes, flicking them up to watch Alan jump down. “Mr. Spears,” Alan slowly mused, attention fully on the desolated mansion. “I’ve never met the Phantomhive boy, but, I’ve heard he was quite the-”

“Prat.” Grell offered.

“Er, something like that.”

William eyed Grell, moving to stand next to Alan, suddenly feeling eyes upon his back. Rolling his shoulders, he chose to ignore it for now. “Phantomhive was an arrogant and shrew young boy though I think that most that came from having a butler that wouldn’t let him perish.” now he could sense the bloody demon; he found it curious he was the only one that could, especially Grell. “I could have cared less for the child and I’m sure he’d say the same about us.”

“Was he well liked?”

“I cannot answer that, Humphries. By us reapers, no. As for everyone else? I’m sure he had a few alliances but as I stated, the boy wasn’t a being I could stand to be around too long.” he subtly glanced behind him. “It doesn’t help he was one of the lowest mortals to make a contract with demon scum.”

“Lower then us, sir?”

Snapping his focus back on Alan, the brunette shrunk under the glare he was used to seeing but never receiving. “Pardon me? Are you suggesting what we did is worse then selling your soul to a damn demon?”

“N-Not at all!” he swallowed. “I was simply saying we aren’t angel’s either.”

Holding the glare for seconds longer, he finally dropped it, turing his eyes back to the building. “I never said we were.” holding out his hand, he summoned his pruning shaped scythe, using the clippers to grasp Grell’s shirt collar, hoisting him off the ground. “Now off with you two. I want those souls organized by tonight, tomorrow at the latest.”

“Yes sir.” Alan bowed before quickly summoning a portal to leap through.

Grell lingered to William’s dismay, watching the red head warily. Being always unpredictable, William didn’t have the reflexes to block the kiss that was placed to his cheek when the red head darted forward, hastily disappearing through the portal before William could reprimand him, the opening closing behind him. “Honestly.” William sighed, removing a handkerchief from his inner breast pocket, wiping away the red lipstick residue. Pocketing the cloth, he finally address the presence that was bothering him. “Either I have somehow gained heightened senses or my reapers senses have dulled else I cannot explain why they did not know you were there.”

From the shadow of the tree, out the raven stepped, the familiar demon that was missing now standing before him, that damned devilish smirk upon his lips. Much like William, Sebastian’s hair was raven black, his eyes ruby red. Even after three years, he still wore the same butler outfit of black trousers, a six-button double-breasted tailcoat and a grey vest, also sporting a pocket watch with a chained silver lapel pin bearing the Phantomhive crest. His gloves were white, hiding the contract make he made with Ciel Phantomhive as well as his demonic black nails. There was something so surreal about seeing this demon again but that didn’t mean William was pleased to.

Stepping closer to William, the reaper tightened his grip on the metal pole of his scythe, now noting the out of place fatigue on the normally smug face. “Mr. Spears.” the creature greeted.

“My, my. Don’t we look tired today.”

The corner of Sebastian’s lips twitched downward. “I am not tired.”

“Oh? Perhaps you are ageing then?”

“Demons do not age.”

“Then what has you so agitated Michlealis? I was under the impression the powerful demon butler could do anything with a simple snap of his fingers,” he snapped his own fingers.

The smile had wavered only to return full force. “My agitation comes from the fact I have been starving for longer then I should be.”

“How so? Is this new master of your that much of a burden?”

“I do not have a new master.” he corrected, beginning to pace in front of the reapers, William’s eyes locked on him. “In fact, I am forever bound to Ciel Phantomhive.”

If there was one thing to make William smile it was the suffering of a demon he detested. “As much as I hate saying this, thank you Michealis for making me feel a sense of a joy for the first time in decades.”

“I knew this would please you.”

“Indeed it has.” he used his knuckle to push up his glasses. “Now, what brings you back?”

Sebastian ignored him, wandering back to the tree instead. “Might I enquire about the reaper with Grell? I can’t recall ever meeting him before. Alan Humphries, was it?”

William’s right eye twitched in annoyance. “He and Slingby never have had the please of meeting you, only hearing of you from Knox, myself and especially Sutcliffe.”

“You speak of me?” Sebastian inquired with a quirked eyebrow.

“Illy of you, yes.”

“Mm, I should have know.”

“Quite, now why have you returned? I will not ask a third time.” Silence followed the question, Sebastian face upturned to the last rays of sun casting a warm glow over his face. The demon did have something important on his mind but thinking of a way to word it without getting a scythe through his abdomen was going to be tricky. “Well?” William pried.

“I’ve not returned exactly.” he admitted. “I’ve only come for a visit.”

“Who might you be visiting? Those bumbling servants of yours?”

“Goodness no.” the demon laughed. “Being rid of them is the only positive to come from this disaster.” locking eyes with William, a mischievous glint really caught the reaper’s attention. “I’ve come to see you.”

William straightened further immediately. “Me? You mustn’t be serious.” the demon didn’t look away. Inwardly groaning, William remained with his stone front. “If you have, what do you want? I’ve no time for your antics.”

“All I ask of you, is your help in retrieving-”

“Whatever it is, no. I am not help you.”

William barely suppressed his flinch when Sebastian bolted right up to him, grasping his chin. “If you do not listen to my questions, I will remain here to make your work hell.”

Smacking Sebastian’s hand away, he took a step back, shielding himself with his scythe. “Do not touch me demon.”

“Will you listen?”

Knowing the demon would keep Grell entertained far longer then the red heads actual job, he hadn’t a choice. “Fine. Speak before I lose all my patience.”

“Thank you.” hands folding behind his back, he began pacing again. “I won’t bore you with the details, I’ll just get straight to the point.” his eyes never left William’s. “A…certain artifact has been brought to my attention as of late, an item more powerful then anything we demons, you reapers or those angels have. Something no one can control alone.” he smiled. “Do you know the artifact I speak of?”

“Not at all.”

Sebastian halted, scrutinizing William. “No? It resides in your realm I have said.” the grin returned. “Is Mr. Spears telling a lie?”

“I am not. I have not heard of the artifact you speak of.” he turned his back to Sebastian, hand ready to make his way home. “I’m glad you stopped by to visit and now that we’ve had out chat, you can return to your master and leave us reapers alone.” with a flick of his hand, the portal opened. Stepping in, he gave no regrets leaving the demon behind.

Back in his own environment, he bypassed the offices, heading straight to the Library. The large building made of stone and marble was attached to the office build g by one long bridge overlooking an entire forest with a river running many feet below. William would often catch reapers out here enjoying some fresh air, especially at night. The Library itself was grand, oval in shape with a statue of the legendary Grim Reaper, the Undertaker, erected on the inside of the proper entrance which consisted of another long bridge leading to an archway staircase to two large, heavy, double doors. Two reapers were often needed to open them, perhaps the reason why that entrance wasn’t used very often. Inside the thirteen story building were medium length hallways from each entrance leading to the doors that opened into the heart of the Library, the open and extraordinarily large room home to a single staircase that stopped on each floor. Every floor had floor to ceiling bookcases stacked one after another with the Cinematic Books of every mortals memories from the London district. At the very top floor, a door was nestled between the bookcases leading to the ‘filing room’, a place only William and his superiors could enter while the bottom floor had wooden tables and benches set up incase reapers wanted another environment to work in.

William appeared on the ground floor, trying to soothe himself. He needed the environment of the Library rather then his office. “Woah, look at y’ sir! Y’ look ready tae punch someone.”

Coming up beside him was Ronald who must have followed in behind him. “You may be the target.”

Ronald blinked, sliding backward. “Ah, sorry. Didn’t mean t’ strike a nerve or anythin’.”

Taking a deep breath, William forced himself to face Ronald. “It’s not you Knox. Just an annoyance that is going to be here for awhile.”

“Lemme guess, demon?”

“As per normal.” his fingers rubbed at his throbbing temple. “Do you know if Sutcliffe and Humphries finished their record transfer?”

“Yes sir, that have.”

“Excellent. At least Sutcliffe was able to finish today without seeing him.” he muttered to himself. “Anyhow, back to work Knox.”

“Ah, yes sir.”

Though as Ronald watched William make his way up to the sixth floor, he moved toward the reapers sitting at a table behind William’s back. “Hey.” he greeted, plopping down next to Grell who was busy filing his nails while Eric kneaded his hands into Alan’s back.

“Where’d you go Ron?” Grell questioned, inspected one of his finished nails.

“Places.”

Eric took one small glance up from Alan’s massage to see that smug look on the boy’s face. “Wha’ lass were ye tryin’ tae pick now?”

Ronald snickered. “Wasn’t tryin’ t’ pick anyone up. Was just…wanderin’ around.” he then remembered, “Right, ah, I’m not goin’ t’ the party t’night.”

Grell slammed his file down, gaping at the blonde. “What?! Ronald Knox is going to willingly miss a party? Who the hell are you and where’s Ronnie?!”

Busting out into full blown laughter, Ronald shook his hands. “It’s still me! Honest!”

Alan was about to say something when Eric hit a partially sore spot forcing a pleased groan out of him. He slowly slumped forward, resting his forearms on his table to give his cheek a pillow. “Mm…” 

Eric smiled at that, easing the heel of his hand into the same spot. “Were ye gonna say somethin’ lad?” 

“Oh, right, ah…I don’t think Ronald’s looking for anymore lays.”

A grin split Ronald’s face ear to ear. “How come y’ say that?”

“I did suggest you chat up that death scythe girl, didn’t I?” he rolled his shoulders, Eric lowering his hands. “She’s isn’t a one time lay, is she?”

Ronald quickly glanced around, nodding seeing the cost was clear. “Nope. It’s just, do I got a chance with her?”

“Ye got a chance with everyone.” Eric assured, smirking down at Alan. “Could even get Al into bed if ye wanted tae.”

Ronald chuckled, Alan hiding his face int he cook of his elbow with a low groan. “You’re awful!”

“Aye, I know.” he slowly inched his hands up Alan’s spine. “Ye still enjoyin’ this?”

“Mmhm.”

“Anywhere else?”

“Center back, please.” Eric obeyed, another satisfied moan his reward.

Ronald clicked his tongue. “So, when’s my turn?”

“After me. I want to feel those large, rough hands working all over me.” Grell winked with a blown kiss.

Eric rolled his eyes. “I ain’t a masseuse ye two.”

“Then why’s Ally getting such a treatment?” Grell pouted, returning to his filing.

“Looked tense.”

“I’m tense!” he nearly threw the nail filer at Eric’s head.

Lifting one hand from Alan’s back, he held it out, palm up. “‘ow much ye willin’ tae pay then?”

Ronald slouched. “Was hopin’ for the discount Alan’s gettin’.”

“Well, I’ll see how me fingers feel when ‘m done workin’ out these knots.” he replied, using both hands again. “I mean, damn Al. Why the hell are ye sae tense?”

Alan closed his eyes, tempted into napping, “Having things switched around today didn’t sit well with me.” he released a deep breath. “I do thank you Eric.”

“Yer welcome lad.”

Stretching his arms over his head, Ronald chose to look away from the relaxing sight, not wanting to sleep here of all places. Unlike Alan, he didn’t want to be carried back to his bedroom (he also didn’t have his own Eric). “If I watch Alan relax anymore, I’m gonna pass out. So, I got a few papers t’ finish up in my office. Gotta make sure I don’t get any overtime.” he waved to them as he stood up. He was now on his way to his office to start on the last few documents of his paperwork.


	2. Chapter 2

The Rules of Reaper were absolute. Set in place many a time ago, some even created by Legendary Death, the Undertaker. No one dared to break even the smallest of rules; they were there for order, clarity, everyone following them with no questions asked, no one exempt from many of the harsh punishments upon breaking a rule. Not even the reaper who followed them to a T. He was in the position to know of the consequences, the position where he even carried out a few of them. He’d never been present for an execution, thankfully, but he did have to exile a few reapers, four to be exact, some time ago which added to their understaffed issues. He hadn’t wanted to, but the Council deemed them untrusting; fraternizing with demons on a friendly basis forced William to take their glasses and scythes then send them to the mortal realm and refuse them entry back into theirs. Slingby was the one to inform him a few months later when they identified four corpses. He knew very well the consequences of breaking these rules. Then again, his position as District Manager made him less obvious to rule breaking.

Once the Cinematic Record is placed within the Cinematic Book, it was to remain there in the book, upon the shelves in the Great Library. They were only allowed to be checked out to be viewed, never to be tampered with, especially extracted. The memories of mortals were fragile, easily manipulated to show what a reaper wanted or to mock those who lived. William seen it happen once, a reaper thinking he was funny twisting a mortals record to play the life of a jester rather then the monarch they were. The fact the record belonged to one of their fellow colleagues to also mock their mortal life was a reason the memories belonging to the family or close relatives of a reaper were stored inside the filing room on the thirtieth floor of the Library. William was the only one outside the Council to have a key to this room. Another reason the Council had locked away familiar records; they believed it wound hinder the work of their reapers if they were able to get lost in the memories of those dear to them. William could testify to that.

At first, it wasn’t his intention to break the rule. The moment he was promoted to District Manager and the key ring was placed in his palm, his mind wandered to that locked room. He knew what was behind it, everyone did, but to actually have a chance to see her memories; he was hardly able to keep himself composed. After all, he was known to be one of the youngest Managers and he didn’t want to show that by running off like a giddy child. No, instead, he waited for night to fall, the only night before his workload lived up to the rumours of what the Manager had to deal with daily. He snuck from his office, glad he was the only one up at one in the morning; it made this easier.

The room was filled with dusty records, so many of them tossed haphazardly in a pile, unkempt like the other records on the shelves. It irked him far beyond what should have been a normal annoyance. The dust particles floated around him, the one light flickering in patterns, a few shelves knocked over. He was the one that spent partially the entire night fixing it up back into a cleaner normal state. It meant he didn’t have time to look the memories over but he at least found it, her Cinematic Book after cleaning up all the clutter.

Some part of him felt anxious, scared even, that someone would come in and take her record, the same part of him convincing him to hide it. It may not have been the best place, but placing it on the highest part of the shelf with a large leap, he felt somewhat better knowing it wasn’t going to be easily seen.

He’d left the room when the sun was just rising. A few reapers were already up, a few giving him strange looks, disapproving looks. Weather that was because he left the filing room or the fact he was promoted to this position after only a year of being a High Officer, William couldn’t tell, nor did he care. He proved his worth, he was more the capable of taking on this position. Besides, all he cared about now was seeing her memories. Unfortunately, though, today was when the work as District Manager really began. Papers upon papers upon papers flooded his office, forms coming in that needed his signature, scythe requests needing to be approved, so much work for just him. He’d waited for a week, hoping for someone to come in and announce they were his new assistant; it never happened.

Finally, he was free enough to sneak out again. Technically it wasn’t sneaking nor was it rule breaking to enter the room considering he had the key, but the moment he opened her Cinematic Book, he would be abusing his power. Still, when her book was in his hands, he didn’t care. Of course there wasn’t any place to sit and he never thought to sneak a chair into the room so the floor was as good a place as any.

Making sure the door was locked and he wouldn't be interrupted, he sat down, cross-legged. The book was set in his lap, his heart thrumming hard against his ribs. He would be able to see her for the first time.

When he gained the courage to open the cover, it was overwhelming. Not since his day during the Academy final did he cry but seeing her, hearing her voice, he desperately wished he could reach out to hug her, beg her to take him home.

Like any cinematic detailing ones whole life, especially one he was invested in, it was going to take another day to finish viewing. His watch was already telling him the sun was going to rise soon. Despite wanting nothing more then to sit there and watch the memories, he had to prove to the Council his promotion wasn’t in vain.

It took even longer then before for him to get a chance to return to the room but this time, he had a plan to bring her with him. He knew this was breaking another one of the golden rules, but again, he didn’t care. This felt more important then the rules, as selfish as it was.

Again, he ‘snuck out’ at the most opportune time, late at night when no one was up. His schedule always included overtime now, which for this case, was a blessing. It gave him an excuse if someone questioned why their superior was out of his office, wandering the halls of the dark office building, or climbing the stairs of the silent Library. ‘Just out to stretch my legs’ he’d reply. If they asked about the empty book he carried, he’d simply tell them it was none of their business then be on his way. In truth, the bare book was going to be the new home of her record. Before leaving his office, he’d taken an old book, the bindings already coming loose making it easy to tear out the pages, dumping them into the bin next to his desk.

Safely in the room, he grabbed the Cinematic Book from the top shelf to begin the transfer. Sitting on his knees, he gently fed the Cinematic Record from the Cinematic Book to the plain one, watching with a lump in his throat as her memories unraveled from one and formed in the other until finally the process was done. Whatever name had been on the old book now was engraved with her name, Kamiko Spears. “Mother…” he swallowed, grasping tightly to the book.

Quickly, like he’d be caught in seconds, he tossed the skeleton of the old book back on to the top shelf before hugging the new Cinematic Book to his chest. He hardly even remembered running from the room all the way back to his office. To him, all he did was blink and he’d almost teleported back to safety. 

Now, he always had her close whenever he needed some sort of comfort. Like now, for example, was one of the better times to watch her memories. Sat on his bed, the soft glow from the records illuminating his face and parts of his dark bedroom. His stress had been mounting over night and he woke up needing a calm voice, a voice that didn’t grate on his nerves like half his employees did. It was also comforting to get lost in a time where he wasn’t alive, where there was no rush of papers or souls, just his mother and… _him_. He could have done without the bastard smearing her memories with his damned face, but at least he’d been excited about the child in her womb when she was still alive to carry.

He closed the record before the ending came, he always did. “I deeply apologize for all the pain I caused you. I’m sure you would have agreed with him that I was never worth it.” it was the words he spoke after every viewing, his palm pressed to the plain surface of the books cover.

Storing the book back in its place, William flopped to his back on his bed, staring up at the roof. He agreed full heartedly with the Council about locking family records away. After viewing his mothers, he wanted nothing more then to think which he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to do. If he was caught slacking off, then what sort of role model would he be for his reapers? A poor one. Sutcliffe was already a prime one for that anyway.

He pushed himself up, walking toward the ensuite washroom, flicking on the light. His office, being one of the highest ranked reapers, was the only one that came with the commodity while the others had the public washrooms to do whatever they need to. It was a luxury William loved, hating having to guess what sort of diseases were in the public ones, not that reapers could get any sicknesses. It still bothered him, having lived his past life and this one in perfect order and cleanliness.

He stood at the sink, turning both taps to warm the water. Sighing to himself, he removed his glasses, setting them on the white granite countertop before cupping his hands under the water. When it was sufficiently warm enough, he leant over, closed his eyes then splashed his face. He did this a few times before turning off the taps. He let his face drip for a moment before grabbing the washcloth folded neatly next to the sink and dabbing his face dry before setting his spectacles back on his nose.

He composed himself quickly enough to not be startled by the knocking on his bedroom door. Knowing when he was bothered in his bedroom it was rather important, William took a deep breath, letting it out slowly between thin parted lips. “Coming.” he announced while approaching the door. Fixing his tie out of habit, he opened the door, a new familiar face greeting him. He was only a year out of the academy, his main traits seeming to come for a desperate imitation of Knox. The same style of hair though without the cowlick or blonde, just black, same style of spectacles, though his were orange (Ronald’s favourite colour William noted) and his suit tried desperately to mimic Ronald’s, even to the white oxfords Knox always wore, though his looked to be an off brand. “What is it Arthur?”

“S-Sorry sir!” he quickly apologized at William’s obvious annoyed tone, “but it’s important!”

“Speak then.”

“W-Well, Ronald K-Knox had an accident with his s-scythe.”

“Accident?” William repeated, intrigued.

Arthur swallowed, nervously wringing his hands together. “Er…there’s a problem with it.”

“I gathered that.” William crossed his arms. “What was this accident?”

“I-I don’t know that, but his scythe’s busted up real bad.”

William heaved a deep breath through his nose. His temple throbbed but he refused to reach up to rub it. “Then have him fix it.”

Arthur rapidly shook his head. “It’s not that easy, sir. W-When I said it was busted up real bad, I mean _real_ bad.”

Something in the back of William’s mind told him Arthur wasn’t nearly close enough when he said ‘bad’ but the larger part of him knew he didn’t have time to waste on petty things. There was paperwork to be done and souls to reap. If Knox was incapable of doing the later, then he would take the blonde’s reaps upon himself. “Where is Knox now?” he questioned, side stepping past Arthur to proceed toward his desk.

“O-On his way to the Scythe Department.”

“Where he should be then.” simply flicking his eyes over his work, Ronald’s death list was a prominent black against the ivory sheets. Though he detested the idea of his paperwork going unfinished, demons cared not for the worries of reapers. A soul without the stench of reaper nearby would not go uneaten. “Thank you for informing me of this mishap.” the death ledger was lifted then slipped under his arm, held securely there. “You may return to your work.” He expected a polite ‘goodbye’, instead, all he heard in return of his dismissal was the office door slamming shut hard enough to rattle the rare picture frame on the wall. Arthur was one of the stranger reapers he’d seen. Still, as he turned his back to his paperwork, he made a mental note to collect Knox after these reaps to discuss a suitable punishment for apparently destroying his ‘indestructible’ death scythe. Though he wanted to sit and pondered how that was even possible, souls would not collect themselves.

Alan, on the other hand, was forced into taking a break by Eric who masked his worry for the brunette with overconfidence. He assured Alan he’d be fine, able to handle anything that came his way, not allowing Alan’s stubbornness to win over. Eric even swore if he declined to take a break just one more time, Eric would throw him back into the realm. As it stood, he was grateful he had such an understanding partner. The reaps that day weren’t anything too stressful, the run of the mill deaths. Though when they happened upon a grieving family who had lost a small child to the chill of the cold, Alan’s thoughts were torn from his job, eyes soft as they sympathized with not only the family, but the child. He knew how awful being ill was, he knew it was hard to realize you were eventually going to leave your loved ones behind, but unlike the child who died in their sleep, not only had Alan made a choice, he had to watch his family mourn for him; his mother wail as she begged for her child to live, his father enraged to nearly breaking something while trying his best to comfort his wife, the woman like a second mother to him, crying silently as she grieved for someone who was like her own flesh and blood. Watching them suffer nearly nullified his own. He should have hung on for as long as he could, he should have stayed, he shouldn’t have been selfish, he shouldn’t have—“Alan?”

His eyes slowly trailed from looking over his friends shoulder back to her eyes. She’d been talking and he felt horribly guilty for letting his mind wander like it did. “I’m sorry.” he apologized, offering a guilty smile. “My mind ran off.”

“Obviously.” she reached out, resting a concerned hand to the one still rubbing slow circles over his chest. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine.” he assured though knew saying that only ended up meaning nothing when this feeling in his chest, this dull throb, would increase to a sharp, stabbing pain at any time. ‘Fine’ was soon going to be a word banned from his vocabulary.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He could feel her hesitant hand but she did remove it, placing it back in her lap with its pair. Giving him one last side look, she continued on with her day so far in accounting. Mary was one of his few friends; speaking to her off and on. When the rare chance came when they both were in the break room, on the black leather couch with tea warming their palms, they’d exchange pleasantries then Alan would encourage her to speak her mind. While Alan didn’t have much to say, he was more then happy to lend an ear to anyone who needed it. Sometimes it was nice to just let free the mind and not worry about the dead he’d see in another hour.

With his eyes flicking down to his tea, though still listening intently to what Mary had to tell him, he paused with he rim of the cup to his lips as her voice suddenly died down. Before he could look up himself, she gently nudged his shoulder, gesturing with her other hand to the entrance of the break room. “I think Eric’s hurt.”

He was grateful to whomever he didn’t spill his hot tea over himself or Mary when he stood up as fast as he did. She was right, Eric was limping in, favouring his left leg, face pinched in pain; thankfully it didn’t look agonizing. His cup was quickly set on the coffee table before he rushed over to his partner who was already at the small liquor cabinet William finally allowed after months of petitions. “Eric!” Alan gasped, grabbing tightly to his bicep. “What happened? Are you alright? What’s wrong?” the questions shot out of his mouth like bullets. Eric was more concerned with his alcohol, taking a long swig from the whisky bottle he procured. “Answer me.” he demanded, ready to snatch the bottle away.

Thankfully Eric lowered the drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. “‘m fine.”

Alan blinked before his expression darkened. “You are not fine. Limping isn’t considered even remotely fine. What happened?”

“Jus’ ‘ad a run in with a demon, tha’s all.” he shook Alan off him, focusing back on the bottle. “‘sides, ’s a wee bruise. Nothin’ tae worry about.”

“A ‘wee’ bruise makes you limp?”

“Aye.”

When he turned back to Alan after putting away the bottle, he found that stern look that nearly rivalled the boss. Alan obviously wasn’t buying his tough act, hadn’t since the day Alan became his reaping partner rather then his trainee. “Dun give me tha’ look.”

“I have every right to. You encountered a demon and now your limping. That is something to worry about.” his hands grasped the fabric of Eric’s shirt, tugging it. “Lift this.”

“Why?”

“I want to see this bruise of yours. Lift your shirt.”

That demand in itself caused a few passing reapers to slow or stop outright, milling about close enough to see what many of the secretaries had. Never shy about showing off his body, there was something different about Alan being the one to demand him to remove his shirt. He knew it was Alan’s simple concern, but there was something about it that made something tingle in his lower stomach. “Let’s head tae the lavvy first.” he led Alan there, his partner able to keep in step with his long strides, despite his now more prominent limp. Thankfully they were alone when they entered the washroom. He felt a lot better about showing his wound to Alan without eyes watching them.

After untucking the tails of his shirt, he lifted the fabric up as high as he could, revealing a tan, toned torso with an ugly, black and blue bruise covering most of his right side. The fact it reached over part of his ribcage and even dipped in to the waistband of his trousers had Alan speechless. “T-That’s not small!” he accused with hands covering this mouth. “Eric, that looks bloody painful.” Eric hadn’t seen the bruise either until now. It felt small, but Alan was right when he said painful. Any pressure, even the featherlight touch of Alan’s fingertips ghosting over the dark flesh caused him to flinch. “Sorry!” he blurted, retracting his hand fast enough like he’d burned the skin.

“’s fine.”

Alan swallowed, lowering his hands back to his side. “How did this happen? What did the demon do?”

“It came lookin’ fer a meal. Thin’ was stubborn an’ wouldnae take no fer an answer, sae I ‘ad tae fight ‘im off. Slammed me ‘ard into the trunk o’ a tree, bu’ I dinnae leave the fight without me arms.”

“Hard isn’t even the half of it.” he muttered, unable to tear his gaze from the mark. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Alan had his eyes speak for him, the guilt plainly there and when Alan pressed his hand over his heart, Eric fought back the urge to hug the brunette to him. “Dun blame yerself.” he scoffed instead. “No’ the first demon I fought alone.”

“You did because you didn’t have a partner. You do now and he’s…” Alan’s words failed him, hand clutching the black fabric of his jacket. “useless.” he forced out.

Eric sighed through his nose, letting his shirt drop. “Lad, this isnnae yer fault.”

“It partly is!” Alan suddenly shouted at him. “I should have been there to lend some sort of assistance.” he swallowed. “I’m your partner and I should have stuck with you.”

“Alan,” Eric began, resting a large warm hand on Alan’s shoulder. “This isn’t yer fault. Ye were feelin’ a bit ill an’ it’s best fer me to get a bruise then fer ye tae be…” he carefully thought about his words, not wanting to ignite Alan’s fire further, “tae be wounded.”

Alan knew what Eric wanted to say, what he was implying, but of course he didn’t want to bring it up as much as Eric didn’t. Instead, he focused his attention back on Eric, where it should be with a bruise and limp like that. “We should get it checked.” Alan said, resting his hand over Eric’s still on his shoulder.

“Again, why? It’ll ‘eal within the week like every other wound.”

“That doesn’t mean we should at least get it looked at.”

“I’m gad ye care, bu’ I’ll be fine. Dun wanna bother the infirmary jus’ fer this.” he wiggled his hand out from Alan’s, proceeding to exit the restroom when Alan stopped him by taking hold of his hand again. 

“Where are you going?” the smaller reaper demanded.

“Work.” he said as though it was obvious.

Alan shook his head. “No you’re not. I want that bruise looked at and what if you broke something? Bones take a hell of a lot longer to heal then just flesh wounds, even longer without medical treatment and what if it mends wrong? Then it’ll need to be fixed meaning more time in the infirmary then just getting it checked now. Furthermore, you-” He jumped when a finger quickly pressed to his lips.

“Sh.” the blonde sighed. “Alan, ‘m fine. I dun need a doctor.”

Alan smacked Eric’s hand away, refusing to let go of Eric’s hand. “You may think so, but we’re going to see one.”

“No, we’re not.”

“Yes, we are.”

Eric grit his teeth. “No. We’re. No’.”

Alan squared his shoulders, tightening his hold on Eric. “We are.”

It was obvious neither was going to budge. Eric refusing, Alan pushing. They were only broken apart when a familiar scent along with the voice flittered into the restroom. “Well, a private meeting, hm?” Grell smiled, striding toward the sinks. “I do hope you weren’t planning on using one of the stalls for a little impromptu romp. Terribly cramped and so hard to find a comfortable position.” all said while he pulled his lipstick from his pocket for a touchup.

Alan immediately let Eric’s hand go and took a step backward. “No. We weren’t planning on _that_.” he rubbed his hands over his rosy face. “Eric just wanted to show me his chest in private.”

Grell side glanced over to him. “And you weren’t planning on using the stalls?”

“No!” Alan groaned. “That came out wrong! He’s got a bruise he didn’t want others to see.”

Eric crossed his arms, far less flustered then Alan was. “Aye. Ran into a demon reapin’ an’ got wounded by it.” he jerked his thumb at Alan. “Lad thinks I need tae see a doctor but ‘m fine.”

“That bruise isn’t fine!” just like that, Alan was back at it, forgetting Grell was even there.

The red head rolled his eyes, smacking his lips together to evenly spread the red pigment. Satisfied, he dropped the stick back into his pocket then approached the arguing partners. “Why don’t you show me this bruise of yours?”

Still seeing the bruise as nothing warranting medical attention, Eric easily lifted his shirt again. At first, Grell simply let is eyes roam over the torso bared to him, but it didn’t take long for those eyes to land on the obvious discolouration. Any smugness Eric had quickly fled when Grell shook his head. “Darling, I’m going to agree with Ally. That looks terribly painful and I’d even want you to get it checked.”

“See?” Alan crossed his arms triumphantly. “I told you.”

Eric rolled his eyes, letting his shirt drop to tuck it back into his trousers. “I think ye two are makin’ a big deal outta nothin’. Aye, it’s no’ as small as I thought it was, bu’ it’s gonna heal on its own. No need fer a doctor.”

The red head pat Alan affectionally on the head. “Well, he’s in your hands now.” Alan knew Eric was going to be difficult and knew the only way to get Eric to agree to getting himself checked out, was to drag him to the infirmary. Thankfully, it wasn’t far off since everything was on the ground floor. Storming past Eric, he grabbed the blonde’s wrist, yanking him along. Not expecting it, Eric stumbled after his partner, through the door and toward the infirmary. Alan heard Eric release a heavy sigh but he didn’t try escaping. It seemed his stubbornness outweighed Eric’s.

What stopped them both, however, was Ronald. The younger blonde was hunched over something in the corner of the lobby. Crouched down, he blocked whatever he was stressing over from view and it was obvious Alan both wanted to get Eric checked over and see what happened with Ronald. “Let’s check on Ron first then I promise I’ll go tae the doctor.” Eric said.

Alan scanned him. “Promise?”

“Aye love. I promise.”

Alan eyed him for moment longer before letting Eric go and approaching Ronald, Eric at his heels. Knox had yet to hear them making his reaction justified. The moment Alan touched Ronald’s shoulder, the blonde jumped around, landing hard on his arse. “Senpai!” he gasped. “Give me a heart attack, damn.”

Whatever they wanted to say died on their lips when they saw what Ronald was hunched over. It was his scythe, well, a version of it anyway. They could decipher parts of it, but the rest was nothing more then a crunched up ball of metal. Ronald looked between them, waiting for their barrage of questions. Surprisingly, all he got was a, “how?” from Eric.

Ronald jumped back to his feet, staring sadly at his scythe. “You’re not gonna believe me.”

“Try us.”

“Demon?”

The elders shared a look. “Really?” Alan asked. “A demon did this?”

Ronald waved his hands over his scythe. “What else coulda done this? I sure as hell can’t and throwing it off a building wouldn’t.”

“…he has a point.” Alan conceded. “There isn’t much that could make a scythe look like this.”

“Exactly.”

“Aye, bu’ I’ve yet tae see any demon do this.”

Ronald again waved at his scythe. “Explain this then.”

Alan knelt next to the metal, examining it closely. Normally a demon would end up leaving a mark behind, demon claws or even a lingering scent, but Alan found none. Of course there wasn’t any other explanation for a scythe to end up like this. Scythes were meant to be indestructible and he’d yet to see anyone have their scythe end up looking like this. “Well…new demons do pop up from time to time.” Alan suggested, poking at one of the sharp metal pieces.

“Most new demons ye can crush under yer foot. They dun ‘ave the ability tae do this.”

“Then what does?” Ronald snapped. “I can even tell y’ what this thing looked like.”

Eric slung his arm around Ronald’s shoulders, poking him in the chest. “Alright then. What does this ‘demon’ look like.”

Shoving the older reaper off, Ronald made sure to describe every part of this demon as it was quite a vivid memory, one he wouldn’t forget. “It was big, really big. Taller then Eric for sure. It didn’t have eyes, just the black sockets and it had four arms! There were also these horns and, it like, oozed this black stuff whenever I cut it.”

“That does sound…demon-esque.”

“Because it was! Was bloody fast too! I only caught a glimpse of it when I lost my scythe to it.”

Eric squatted next to Alan, taking his own look at the metal ball. He knew he’d never seen a demon like that, or even heard of it, but really, demon seemed to be the only explanation for this sort of thing. “If tha’ thin’ does exist, then I ‘ate tae as why yer still alive? Why would a demon be more concerned about the reapers scythe then the reaper?”

Ronald shrugged. “I have no idea. _I_ don’t even know how I’m still alive.”

“I think we should be thankful you are.” Alan said. “I’d hate to see you if this is what it did to your scythe.”

“So ye believe ‘im now?”

“Part of me wants to.”

“Thank you Alan!”

“I said _part_ of me wants to. The other part of me is still very doubtful.” he stood up, brushing off the knees of his slacks. “In any case, shouldn’t you report this to Mr. Spears? Demon or not, I think he deserves to know that our scythes are capable of being damaged.”

“I know, I’m gonna.” his fingers brushed back his bangs, side-eyeing his scythe. “Well, I guess I gotta try and see if I can get this fixed.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

“Yes, good luck indeed Ronald.” he turned to Eric. “Now, to keep your promise.”

“Promise?” Ronald asked.

Eric sighed, brushing over his nose. “Aye. I promised Al I’d see the doctor after we talked tae ye.”

Ronald eyed the older man. “Why? Y’ look fine to me.”

Alan shook his head. “Far from it.” Before Eric could interject, Alan was keen on telling the story. “A demon decided to bother him while he was reaping, he fought it, was slammed into a tree and now has a large bruise. It makes him limp and I think he could have broken a rib or two.”

“Can I see it?”

Eric heaved out a sigh but lifted his shirt just enough to give Ronald the just of the bruise. To even see the shock in Ronald’s eyes, Eric knew there was really no way now of getting out of seeing the doctor. “Yer gonna agree with Al, aren’t ye?”

“Yeah I am! That looked really bad.”

“I told you and now that he, Grell _and_ I have shown concern, are you going to pout a little less?”

“Aye, suppose sae.”

“Good.” Alan secured his hand around Eric’s wrist. “And I best take him before he goes back on that.

“Yeah, go force him t’ get checked out and lemme know how thin’s go when you’re done.”

“Will do. See you later Ronald.”

“Aye, see ye this evenin;.”

Ronald grinned, waving to them, watching until they disappeared behind the closing infirmary doors before he faced his problem. There was no way to hide it, every one who passed all had the same bewilderment expression which he couldn’t blame them. He was still amazed this happened. Not even another death scythe could destroy another scythe and like Eric said, demons couldn’t destroy scythes either. Some motorized scythes, like his, could be stalled; butter knives in the motor was a great example but it could never completely destroy a scythe. If he hadn’t seen the demon with his own two eyes, he would have been just as skeptical but he swore on his mothers grave, this demon existed, hell, this should have been proof enough.

Knowing biding his time wasn’t fixing anything, he grabbed what he presumed was the handle of his scythe and straightened his back. With a deep breath, he waltzed into the Death Scythe Department. He did his best to ignore the stares he was receiving; normally he’d enjoy the looks he got but these were not the flirtatious kind. He just wanted to get this fixed quickly before Mr. Spears even heard about it.

This till had become his usual one, the small silver bell ringing twice with two quick taps while he called out in a sing-song voice, “Oh Miss Windfalls~”

A few moments later, a young woman appeared behind the till. With raven black hair pulled over her right shoulder, she wore blue half framed square glasses, her uniform the standard one for female consisting of a pencil black skirt, black suit jacket, a white blouse and her hands remained gloveless. The only deviation she had were black flats instead of the heels and a silver chained necklace with a silver dove for the charm. “Back again?” Thea smiled, hands resting on the metal countertop. “Weren’t you just here yesterday for a tune up?” His charm held up from the time it took him to turn his head from her to his scythe. “Ronald?”

“This is gonna need more then a tune up.”

Curious, she tried peering over the till, expecting it to be a blown tailpipe or stalled motor, the normal hangups Ronald had with his scythe, however, when the issue came to view, she was speechless; blinking owlishly. “R-Ronald?!” she finally uttered out. “What did you do?!”

Knowing if Alan and Eric didn’t believe him, Thea was going to be harder to convince. Nonetheless, he gave her the honest truth, “and I really am serious! It was a four armed demon.”

“I…I have nothing to compare demons to, so…I’m inclined to believe you, I guess.” she removed her glasses, cleaning the lenses with some hope she was just seeing things. When they returned to her nose, she shook her head. “A-And you want me to try and five it, right?”

He offered a sheepish smile. “Please?”

“Ron…” her attention rapidly changed between him and the scythe. “You know you could always put in an order for a new scythe, right?”

“But this is my baby! I can’t just give up on her!” he folded his hands together, leaning heavily on the counter akin to falling to his knees. “Please Thea! I’m beggin’ y’ here!”

Thea looked around, other woman behind the till sparing glances at the scythe, all giving the same ‘don’t bother’ look but with Ronald begging as he said, she couldn’t find it in her to decline. “Fine.” she sighed, dragging the heap of metal through the window, dropping it next to her. “I’ll try my best, but it’s going to cost you.” she tapped her nail on the counter.

Ronald stared at the spot. Not foreseeing this happening, there was a problem with her request. “I, ah, I don’t have the money right now.”

“You don’t?”

“Not right now. I haven’t gotten my paycheque yet.”

Now drumming her fingers on the counter, her frown turned to the scythe. “Well…”

“Can I pay y’ when I get paid?”

She bit her inner cheek, knowing the repercussions if William found out about that. “I don’t know Ronald. Mr. Spears might fire me if he knew about that. He’d be livid if I gave a scythe repair for free.”

“Yeah, but it’s only for me and I swear,” he placed his open palm over his heart, “I’ll pay y’ the moment I get paid. No if, ands, or buts.”

Thea crossed her arms, staring at Ronald’s hand as she thought. Deciding to be kind, she nodded. “Alright.”

“Thank y’!” he grasped her hands, kissing the back of both.

A light pink dusted her cheeks. “You’re welcome.” retracting her hands, she frowned down at the job she had ahead of her. “I better get started on this.”

“Or we could talk for a bit.” he winked.

Rolling her eyes, yet smiling, she lifted the scythe. “I’m serious Ronald. If I don’t start on this now, you won’t be reaping for maybe months.”

He grimaced at the thought of all the overtime that would come of that. “Er, yeah. Alright. Then, I’ll check on you-I mean my scythe, later.” he waved, taking steps backwards before turning and heading toward the doors. Now, the last thing on his to-do list was explain all of this to the man in charge. The likely hood of William believing his story was incredibly slim, nearly non-existent, but at least he could try.

“Mr. Ronald!” He pushed the doors to the exit partly open before someone called his name. The reaper running up to him was a reaper he’d always gotten strange vibes from. Arthur, if he remembered right. “Mr. Ronald!” he repeated, grabbing Ronald’s arm when he was close enough. “I went ahead for you and told Mr. Spears about your scythe! Now you don’t have to trouble yourself to do it!” his smile grew. “He even went to finish your reaping list for you! Isn’t that nice?”

The colour drained from Ronald’s face, his hands grasping around Arthur’s biceps. “Y-Y’ told Mr. Spears ‘bout my scythe?”

“Mmhm! I thought he should know right away! I saw you come back with your mangled scythe and knew Mr. Spears had to know!”

He nearly throttle the reaper. “And…and he’s reapin’ the rest of my list?”

“Yep!”

Ronald looked up, expecting William to barge through those doors and put him on permeant overtime for indirectly forcing him to reap. Now, it was the idea that crossed William’s mind, at first. The worst punishment he had in store for Knox was simply putting him on desk work until whatever damage to his scythe had been fixed. Of course, that was before he came to realize _that_ demon was stalking him and suddenly he had the urge to put the blonde on permeant probation.

Despite the overtime he was sure to have, he faced it every damn day, it was going to be no surprise, he took time to enjoy the mortal realm of London. Despite all the bustling of the city under him from where he stood on the roof of the home where his second to last collection was set to die, there was a peace he would never receive from work. The breeze that cascaded through his hair and bristled his clothes was cool, helping to soothe his shot nerves. With his eyes closed, he was able to hear the very same wind make its way through the changing coloured leaves before dying down to eventually pick up again with a slightly stronger force.

Even when it came to the cadavers he was to reap from had him in a state of calm. Ronald’s list was one of the rare ones where the cause of death for most the souls on his list weren’t by any horrific accidents or deliberate murder, but my the natural act of passing on. Some eve serene, like the elderly woman he was reaping now. She had passed a minute ago in her sleep; a heart attack. When he used the pinchers of his scythe to stab into her abdomen, her Cinematic Record previewed him to her simple, happy life, living beyond what was normal for mortals in this area. She was loved by her soon to be mourning children, each having their own families.

The soul was collected without much effort, like always, but unlike the other souls he’d collected, he remained with her for just a little bit longer. A strange feeling settled into the pit of his stomach; perhaps sympathy for her children or perhaps even envy toward them. Whatever the cause, he finally stamped her page with ‘complete’ before flipping to the last soul, scanning over the details.

Memorizing the location, he shut the ledger while stepping onto the windowsill. Ready to leap from his perch, someone snatched the back of his collar, yanking him backward and to the floor. Barely able to keep from knocking his head against the wooden floor, his scowl was directed at the demon that stood in front of him; smug grin on his face. “What do you want demon?” he sneered, getting back to his feet.

“You haven’t forgotten our little talk yesterday, have you?”

William’s eye twitched, his free hand pushing up his glasses while his other secured his grip around the pole of his scythe. “I have not.”

“Then you should know my reasoning for finding you.”

Having no time to deal with the bloody creature, William shoved past Sebastian, finding no patience to even put up a gentlemanly act. He returned to the windowsill, quickly spinning to face the demon this time. “I have said it before, but I do not know of the artifact you speak of. Now leave me be, demon.”

Sebastian’s grin only grew as he walked—stalked—closer, watching William unconsciously tense. White glove fingers reached out, running over the metal pole. “Ah ah, William,” the look of disgust on William’s face as he touched the precious scythe spurred him on, “you cannot like to a demon.”

“I am not.” was his simply rebuttal, jerking his scythe from Sebastian’s touch. “Now leave me be. I will not ask again.”

“Oh? What will you do if I remain at your side?”

“I shall spear you with my scythe.”

The creature snickered, reaching out his hand as if to assist William down from the ledge her perched himself on. “I’m sure we can speak in a friendly matter.” his smile was offset by the hate in his blood red eyes. “You will tell me the truth and I will not disrupt you any further.”

William used his scythe to smack the hand away. “Why don’t you run along back to your master. I’m sure he needs his dog by his side.”

The demons expression darkened. “My master does not need me as much as he used to.”

“Pity.” with that, William allowed himself to fall backward out the window, flipping upright midway to land silently on the cobbled ground below him. Sparing a look at his watch, the demon had set him behind three minutes. Honestly.

It took little effort to leap from the ground to the roof before sprinting off across similar rooftops and smoke stacks, his feet hardly touching any of the surfaces, easily carrying his light-weight body. The last soul wasn’t very far, but now that the demon had interrupted him, he found his mind straying to the artifact the demon had demanded be handed over to him. Of course he new of the thing and it was locked away in a separate part of their realm, but how the hell did _he_ know about it? It was a fluke William himself even knew let alone a demon.

Arriving at his destination, he landed just as he had before, silently a few steps away from the crops in the ally. This was the only reap on Ronald’s list William found himself disgusted with. This man had been murdered, blood mixing with the previous, dried, vomit on the mans front, an empty, cracked, bottle lying next to him. “Foul.” he muttered, holding his arm over his nose and mouth. Most bodily fluids he was capable of dealing with but there was something about sick that really didn’t sit well with him. When he stepped his scythe into the man, he made a mental not to distinct it when he returned home.

The moment the memories were collected, he was slammed into the brick wall, scythe clattering to the ground along with his death list. The wall scratched his cheek, the demon using one hand to keep his head pressed against it, the other easily securing his wrists behind his back. “You’re annoying me.” William spat, struggling his best.

“The feeling is mutual.” the creature drawled, leaning forward to let his silver tongue glide over the shell of William’s ear. “But I hope you know I won’t leave you be until you tell me the truth about the artifact.”

William shivered after the wet muscle, his struggling efforts doubled. “I have no bloody clue what you’re talking about.”

Sebastian pulled him back just to slam him again into the wall. “Do not lie.”

He winced, feeling his glasses jostle, hardly hanging on. “I’m not, now let me go!”

Sebastian shook his head, pressing William closer, being sure to rub the reapers skin against the rough brick. “I’m afraid I cannot. Not until you tell me the truth. It’s a simple answer, really. Do you know about the artifact I am looking for?”

William fought with himself as well as trying to fight back against the demon. His resolve was normally strong, but as Sebastian continue to increase the pressure on his body to the point where he heard the bones pop in his back, he gave in. “Fine! Yes! I know what you’re looking for!” he spat.

“Good boy.”

Sebastian was gone in a blink, the pressure gone so suddenly, William dropped to his knees. His palms came up to rest against the wall, the throbbing in his wrists easing quickly. “Bloody creature.” taking one deep breath to gather himself, he snatched up his scythe and leader before creating a portal home. He stepped through with the urge to go lay down, however he knew he had other matters to attended to. A Ronald Knox needed to be spoken with.

Finding Ronald wasn’t hard, the blonde sitting in the break room with Alan and Eric; William taking interest in the white bandages Eric was showing off wrapped around his torso. “So they were broken?” Ronald confirmed.

“Aye, at least half o’ ‘em.” the older blonde replied, Alan sitting smugly next to him.

“Aren’t you glad I told you to get looked at? Broken bones take twice as long to heal, even for reapers.” the brunette playing poked Eric’s scruffy cheek.

Eric dropped his shirt, playfully scoffing at his partner while batting the hand away. “Nah. I woulda been fine.” he smirked.

Alan rolled his eyes. “Well, I think that demon was proof enough.”

“A demon attacked you as well, hm?”

William’s presence startled the younger blonde while Eric and Alan greeted their superior with generic ‘hellos’. “Aye. Demon was tryin’ tae steal the soul I was collectin’, sae I fought it off.”

“But he didn’t escape without battles scars, as I’m sure you saw.” Alan added.

One of William’s brows arched, a quizzical gaze cast at Alan. “May I ensuite why Humphries wasn’t with you to help?” Alan’s sudden face drop to guilt was enough of an answer. “I see.” then he turned to Ronald who already had his head bowed like a guilty child. “Come with me Knox. We have things to discuss.”

“Yeah…comin’ sir.” William went ahead; Ronald swallowed thickly, desperately looking at his elders for support. “I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

“Well, the worst he’s going to do is give you overtime.” Alan said, hand resting on Eric’s bicep. “Right?”

“Righ’. ’s no’ like ‘e’s gonna fire ye.” he shoved Ronald forward. “Now go ‘fore ye piss ‘im off even more.” So much for support, but he knew they were just happy they weren’t in his position.

When Ronald entered William’s office, William was sitting at his desk, hands folded calmly on top of his desk, his icy stare even more intimidating when you knew you were in trouble. “Close the door.” he ordered which was quickly followed by Ronald doing so. He then approached the desk, fingers itching at his side. “I assume you know what I want to talk to you about?”

“My scythe?”

“Correct.” his hands unclasped, slipping down to rest his palms on the wooden surface. “I was informed it wasn’t just a simple fix either like scythe repair should be. Care to explain why that is, exactly?”

Ronald shifted from foot to foot. “Well, y’s see sir, there was this, ah, demon, and—”

“Demon?”

“Y-Yeah! Demon!”

He’d seen the same skeptical look on Alan and Eric’s face. “Honestly.” the elder sighed, shaking his head minutely, reaching up to adjust his spectacles. “There isn’t a demon in existence that can damage a scythe to an unusable point.”

“I’m serious!” he stressed, throwing his arms down at his side. “Really!”

“I’m not inclined to believe you until I see proof.” he ignored Ronald’s frustrated groan. “Now, what does your scythe look like?”

There was a long moment of silence, only broken by the ticking of the clock on William’s desk. Shifting back in his chair, resting his hands comfortably on his lap, he pinned Ronald with the intimating glare, waiting for a reply until finally Ronald ducked his head, bring up his hands to tap his index fingers together. “Good?”

His eyes narrowed. “Good?” he repeated. “Will you be able to reap tomorrow?”

Ronald nodded frantically, but as the stare persisted, Ronald eventually deflated, shoulders slouching. “No, sir.”

“Then I can assume you lied when you told me your scythe was ‘good’?”

“Yes, sir.”

William rubbed at his temple, allowing his eyes a moment to close before locking his icy orbs with Ronald’s worried ones. “Since you cannot reap, you will be put on desk work until your scythe has been fixed and I will include overtime in that if you are unable to finish before the deadline, am I clear?” he nodded. “And furthermore, I will provided you tonight with extra work simply for lying to me in the first place.” he ignored Ronald’s groan as he gathered papers up on his desk. “Come, take your papers.”

Ronald did as he was told, collecting the papers from William’s hand. Despite his hampered mood, he did remember his manners and said to his boss, “hey, ah, thanks for takin’ my reaps today anyway.”

William waved his hand. “It needed to be done. Slingby wasn’t available and I’d rather waste my time on collections then let a beast devour them.” he used the same hand to gesture to the door. “See yourself out and send for Slingby and Humphries.”

“Yes sir.” The blonde was gone and as he waited, William took his time re-organizing his desk. Everything had a place and everything had to be in that place, not even a few inches off. The memo he still needed to copy sitting agonizingly in his peripheral vision. He should have had it done by now, but it was nearly six, their clock out time; no one would get it. Besides, he was behind on his paperwork which was pushing him into more overtime then normal. “Spears?”

William nodded to the partners. “Come in.”

They stepped inside, Eric closing the door then standing beside Alan at the front of the desk. “You wanted to see us, sir?” Alan asked.

“I did.” he crossed his left leg over his right. “I wanted to enquire about this demon, Slingby.”

Eric shrugged, giving another quick rundown of what happened. “Dunno wha’ else tae say. Was jus’ a persistent demon.”

“What did it look like?”

“Normal demon,” he proudly straightened his back as much as he could without straining his ribs, “jus’ doesn’t ‘ave arms anymore.”

“Why are you asking, sir?” Alan asked after rolling his eyes.

“I was curious if it was the same demon that Knox claims destroyed his scythe.”

“Oh no, sir. Two completely different demons, if Ronald can be believed. See, he described his demon as fast with four arms,” Alan began.

“while the demon I fought was yer average one o’ the mill one.” Eric finished.

William cocked an eyebrow. “Four arms?”

“Aye.”

“…strange.” he shifted in his chair. “Have either of you two seen his scythe?”

Both of them looked at each other. “Er…yes, we did.”

“I’ve not been given a proper description of it and from the sounds of things, it doesn’t look like I think it does.”

Eric shook his had. “Sorry Spears, bu’ even Al an’ I were speechless at wha’ the thin’ looked like.”

“Go on.”

Alan gnawed at his bottom lip. “His scythe was destroyed. It was severely—”

“Fucked.” Eric cut in.

Alan winced. “That’s the best way to describe it. It was destroyed beyond recognition really.”

William allowed the information to sink in, before taking a deep breath, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “Honestly.” he then found himself look at Ronald’s death list, wandering what the hell he was going to do about the collections.

Eric saw where he was looking and instantly offered, “we can pick up Ron’s slack.”

William flicked his eyes back to the Scotsman. “Would you?”

“Certainly.” Alan agreed. “It’s not a problem sir. Besides, I’ll be there to be sure Eric stays out of trouble this time.” he grinned at his partner.

The blonde ruffled Alan’s hair. “Ye can try, bu’ I might drag ye with me.”

“You know I won’t let that happen.” he said, glaring as he ran fingers through brown locks, pushing his bangs out of his face.

William nodded to the two. “Thank you for understanding. I’ll attach Knox list to yours then.” he nodded to them then gestured to the door with his hand like he did with Ronald. “You may go.”

Eric pulled Alan along, giving him a salute before he closed the door. William leant back in his chair and turned it to face the window. Looking up at the sky, he could see dark clouds beginning to roll in. Beginning his overtime for the night, he tried not to think of the hell he’d endure in the coming days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like the older versions were just too condescend and I didn't give things time to breathe. With this new version, I want to add length to scenes I feel deserve it.


	3. Chapter 3

Broken ribs and a persistent bruise hardly kept Eric down, not that Alan expected any diffrent from his partner. While he did try again, after their shift to get Eric to reconsider reaping with such wounds, he was mostly relieved that, Eric was just as stubborn as he was and refused. Especially since he agreed to help William with Ronald’s extra reaping’s. Not only would it cause more trouble for William if he reconsidered, but he could let all that work rest only on Alan’s shoulders. It was nice to know he wouldn’t be dealing with all those souls himself.

As of now, the blonde had himself perched on the arm of the couch seated in the break room, coffee table in front of that and four counters aligned along the far wall; a coffee machine next to a tea pot set up with pre-brewed and steeped beverages while the small alcohol cabinet was the base for the fourth counter. There was a small fridge pushed to the side, only used for cream and milk, often unused for anything else with how little anyone felt the need to eat anything during their workday; the lunch break often spent catching up with associates then eating.

While seated as straight as he could on the arm of the couch, in his hands rested a cup of strong, black coffee. It needed to be strong else he’d fall asleep on the job which had happened before causing early mornings to, quite literally, be the death of some reapers. Of course it was a rare thing, but Eric could never find the sympathy in him for his fellows if that was how they went out.

Sipping from his mug, a familiar reaper crossing the barrier between the break room and lobby caused Eric’s eyes to flick from Alan, who was sat on the cushion, reading out to him their plan of attack for the extra reaps. Sure enough, in had stepped William, however he looked more unlike himself then Eric had ever seen. They were subtle changes but having worked with William for so long, they stared him right in the face. His eyelids drooped a bit, his lips tugging downward into a harsher frown; the normal black circles under his eyes were a lot more prominent now, contrasting hard against his pale skin. The man even walked tired, looking like it was an effort to even lift his leg in front of him. Still, despite how exhausted he looked, his suit was still pressed to perfection and hair still combed into place.

His drew his brows together, worry etching on his face while he took another drink from his coffee. Alan still spoke to him, but the words varied in volume as he continued to concentrate on William. It wasn’t until William had gotten his refill of his coffee and left, had he come to realize Alan was looking at him with a cocked head. “Did you hear me?”

Eric nodded, locking eyes with the brunette. “I did.” he grinned. “I was payin’ attention, dun worry.”

Alan didn’t believe him, he could tell, but said nothing otherwise. Instead he asked, “what were you looking at?”

“Spears.”

Alan closed the black cover of the death ledger, leaning forward to place it on the coffee table to switch it out with his black porcelain teacup. “Why? Is something wrong with him?”

“Kinda.” he replied, resting his arms on his thighs, being careful not to bed too much; his ribs already throbbing at the new position. “‘E looks really run down. No’ the perfect Mr. Spears we’re used tae seein’. Plus, this is ‘is _fourth_ cup o’ coffee.”

“And?”

“ _And_ when does Spears leave his office for any length o’ time? Hell, ‘e’s wasitn’ time comim’ an’ goin’ from ‘is office. Normally, it’s jus’ one cup and then ‘e’s good until our lunch break.”

Alan’s bottom lip stuck out a bit as he thought, his eyes drifting to Eric’s wallet chain hanging from his belt. One hand left his cup to let his fingers play with it, twirling it around his digits. “You do have a point.”

“I do.” Eric leant more of his weight on his arms only to bolt back upright when a jolt of searing pain shot across his ribs. “Shit.” he muttered, resting one hand over his bad side.

Alan winced sympathetically. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“If your sure. Anyway, I’m sure William has a good reason for his recent coffee trips. He’s probably got a lot on his plate.”

“Even when ‘e does, ‘e ne’er ‘as _this_ much coffee.” he looked down at his mug, swirling around the cooling liquid, wincing slightly when he shifted again. “I mean, other then Ron with ‘is scythe, Spears doesnnae ‘ave much else tae worry about.”

“We don’t know everything he does.” Alan reminded, scooting over and patting the cushion he was just sat on. 

Eric took the offered spot, reclining back into the couch. “Aye, suppose sae.” he sighed, gesturing toward the ledger. “Let’s see it.”

Alan leant forward, retrieving the item, Eric taking it when offered, flipping it left and right, admiring how strangely slim it was considering their extra reaps. “I was expectin’ this tae be thicker.”

Alan smiled. “Then you didn’t hear me.” he took back the leader to playfully bonk Eric on the head with it. “I said, William split Ronald’s list in half. The first half,” he pointed to the death list, “we have to do before two then after hour break, at three, the second half will be added.”

Eric rubbed the top of his head, giving Alan a faux pout. “Tha’ hurt.”

“Then pay attention next time.” he waggled the ledger at him. “Or I’ll have to smack you again.” he placed the death list on his lap, returning his hand with its pair around his teacup.

“Damn though.” Eric groaned. “I was hopin’ we could jus’ get Ron’s list o’er with then focus on ours.”

“Sorry love, it isn’t going to be that easy.”

“Ugh, ye can say that again.”

“Hey now,” Alan gently nudged his side, above where he was injured, “if anything, maybe you could use this as leverage to warrant a day off.”

Eric looked up as he thought then shifted to wrap his arm around Alan’s shoulders. “If I could, would tha’ mean we could take a day off together an’ jus’ be the two o’ us? I mean, if it means it’ll warrant _me_ a day off, sure as hell is gonna warrant ye one. Ye can ‘ave one now if ye wanted.”

Alan smiled, cheeks a light pink though did nothing to move from Eric, only drinking his rapidly cooling tea. “Maybe.” he muttered, nearly inaudible which only made Eric grin.

“Well, look at this! Not often I can sit and chat with you two.” opposite Alan, Grell dropped beside him, heaving a sigh as he sunk in, throwing a chunk of red long locks over his shoulder. “And I thought the ever punctual Humphries would be—Ally, your cheeks are pink!”

They went red then, head ducking in embarrassment. “I’m a tad warm is all.”

The read head pat Eric’s hand on Alan’s shoulder, winking at the man. “Are you making him warm?”

“Ye know, aye. I think I—“

“You’re not!” Alan blurted before sinking down to the point his elders could see clearly over his head.

They laughed, Eric squeezing Alan’s shoulder affectionally. “Sae Grell, wha’ are ye doin’ ‘ere? Though’ ye woulda been at yer reaps by now.”

“I was meaning to head out, but I wanted to drop by and see if Will was here or not. If I can get him to stop for a bit, my reaping can wait a few minutes.”

“Well, ye may no’ be waiting long.” his arm slid off Alan’s shoulders down to his upper back, under his arm to easily hoisting him back into a proper sitting position. “‘E’s been comin’ by a lot this mornin’.”

“Has he?”

“Aye. Dunn wha’ ‘as ‘im sae wound up, bu’ ‘e keeps comin’ back fer coffee.” he drained the rest of his coffee from his mug before reaching over to set it down on the coffee table. Grell’s gaze was now fled to the archway of the break room, his body leaning on Alan. “Then I better wait.”

With all of Grell’s weight on him, it forced Alan to lean against Eric, the blonde’s arm still wrapped around him. The elder two chatted amongst themselves, while he invested himself in finishing his tea, one hand pressed to the cover of the death list still resting on his lap. By now, his face had returned to normal colour, his eyelid becoming heavy as Eric’s rhythmic heartbeat lulled him into a sense of calm.

Nearly tempted into a nap, he forced his eyes to remain open, especially when the conversation above him stopped. It was easy to tell why when familiar reaper crossed their one of sight toward the teapot instead of coffee maker. With Eric’s concern in mind, Alan was now able to see for himself the fatigue in William’s form. Far greater then what he’d ever seen. Normally always straight backed, William now was slightly leant on the counter, his hands shaking slightly while pouring his tea. “He looks awful.” Grell said.

“Told ye.” Eric said to his partner while standing. Before he could be questioned, Eric approached the worn out man. “Mornin’ Spears.” he greater with a two finger salute, leaning his lower back against the lip of the counter. “Bit early fer this much caffeine, dun ye think?” William’s answer was a long drink from his cup. “Righ’.”

William closed his eyes while lowering his cup, fighting the urge to collapse backward and sleep where he fell. “What is it Slingby?” he forced open his eyelids, his tired green orbs locking with Eric’s concerned ones. “I’m busy, if you cannot tell.”

“Oh, I can tell.” he reached out, securing his hand on William’s shoulder. “Did ye sleep last night?”

“I hadn’t the time.” he bat Eric’s hand away only to have Eric taking his other shoulder, gripping tighter then before. Suddenly, he being yanked toward the couch and he didn’t have much energy to struggle. “Slingby! I have business I must attend to!”

“I know ye do, bu’ I want ye tae tell us wha’ this business is.” he stopped before the couch, slinging his arm over William’s chest, preventing him from escaping. “Ye rarely leave yer office, let alone come ‘ere where yer more likely take be takin’ away from yer work, like now.”

Before William could speak, Alan spoke up first. “Eric has a point, sir.” he agreed. “We know you don’t sleep much anyway, but you seem more affected then normal.” he scooted to sit on the edge of the cushion, getting a better view of William’s face; the weariness etched into his very expression. “Sir—”

“I needn’t a lecture.” William snapped then instantly regretting it as this was Humphries. He _and_ Slingby did offer to help ease some of his workload after all. “I apologize.” he breathed. “I’m simply on edge.”

“Obviously.” Grell huffed.

Alan merely softened his eyes. “What’s bothering you? Perhaps we can help ease it.”

William scanned his eyes over the three of them then twisted his head to look over his shoulder. It was still rather early in the morning, the break room not nearly as crowded as it was later in the day. He eventually deemed it safe enough to show them the memo without accidentally causing a sudden ruckus that would further inhibit productivity. “I’m afraid it’s nothing that can be helped, Humphries.” he set his cup down to reach into his blazer, removing the neatly folded paper from his inner breast pocket.

“Look important.” Eric grunted as William passed the memo to Alan.

“It certainly is.”

Alan unfolded the paper, scanning over the memo rather quickly before blinking once then re-reading it again to make sure he read it right. At that point, Grell leant over to read for himself. Both their faces, Grell’s more animated then Alan’s, displayed the same looks of disbelief bordering surprise. “What?!” the red head gasped.

“Sir, are you serious?”

“Afraid so.”

Eric held out his hand and accepted the memo Alan gave him. It was a quick read before those eyes glared William down. “The hell Spears? Ye think we should get a proper notice about ‘er comin’? Keepin’ this from us is a shitty thing tae do.”

“I wasn’t intending to.” William snapped again, snatching the memo from Eric’s hands. “I’ve been very preoccupied.” was his excuse as he folded the paper back up and returning it to his inner pocket.

“Too preoccupied to warn us the bitch is coming?” Grell crossed his arms, trying to gave William the same glare Eric was giving but it only ended up as bedroom eyes.

Retaliating, William shot him a proper glare, one he would often give to the red head when he was slacking off. “It’d be best for you to refrain from such insults while she’s here.”

“Now now, is she?” William’s eye twitched but held back from falling into Grell’s trap. “Anyway Will, you didn’t answer. You’re _that_ buys you can’t even let us know we’re going to be prisoners for a month or two?”

“Again, I’m afraid so.” he adjusted his glasses, letting his fingers rest against the bridge of his nose. “My paperwork is piling up, the reports from the academy are filing in for their year end evaluation, I’m just _now_ seeing souls go un-reaped and just this morning I’ve been informed of a demon nest located west of Bristol.”

Eric rested a hand on his hip while he rubbed the fingers over his other hand into his temple. “Bloody hell Spears. I ‘ave a headaceh jus’ thinkin’ abou’ all the work yer doin’.”

“Precisely why I’ve been preoccupied.” he reclaimed his tea, taking a needed drink.

“Ye need an assistant ‘r somethin’.”

He clicked his tongue, scowling down at the floor. “I’ve mentioned this to the Council before.”

“Didn’t the other managers before you have one?” Alan inquired, setting his empty teacup next to Eric’s coffee mug.

“They did.”

“Why don’t you?”

“I don’t ‘deserve’ one, apparently.”

“Well tha’s bull.” Eric shook his head. “Bu’ when was the last time the Council did anything useful?”

“Allowing you transfer to the London Branch.” Alan muttered with his head down, smoothing his palm over the cover of the death list.

Eric grinned. “Ye weren’t around when I transferred.”

Alan shrugged. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have been my mentor.”

Grell rolled his eyes; William hid his slightest smile behind the rim of his cup before they straightened again. “Now, if you’re excuse me, I—”

“Let us help.” Alan interrupted. “You’re too overloaded and it’s not good for your health.”

William politely bowed his head in silent thanks. “You and Slingby have already helped enough with taking Knox’s reaps. You needn’t do more.”

“And Spears’s health is beyond fixing at this point.” Eric said. “With ‘ow much sleep ye miss an’ all the stress ye gotta ‘ave on a daily basis? Surprised yer still walkin’.”

“Truthfully, sometimes I am as well.”

“Then an even more reason for us to help.” Alan insisted. “Please sir.”

Beofre William could polity decline again, Grell spoke up. “I’ll offer my assistance.” the red head smile, shark teeth on full view. “I’m more then capable of taking missed reaps,” he slithered from the couch to push up next to William, pawing at his chest, “of I could keep you company while we do paperwork together, just us, in your office, with the door locked.” he fluttered his eyelashes.

“I’d rather you take the reaping’s.” William retorted, showing Grell back by pushing his index finger to the red heads forehead. “But if you’re serious, I’ll take you up on your offer.”

Eric stood next to Alan, resting his hand on his partners upper back. He watched the raven lead away the passion. When they had gone, he removed his hand from Alan to firmly cross his arms over his chest. Alan looked up to his partner to offer they begin their long day of work when he saw Eric’s change. His chipper attitude fell, face twisting into one of annoyance or anger, maybe even a mixture; Alan wasn’t quite sure. What he was sure about was how the knitted brows and deep frown on Eric’s face didn’t sit well in his stomach. “Fuckin’ hell.” the blonde muttered, loud enough for Alan’s ears. “I was hopin’ we dinnae need tae see ‘er again. She shoulda been replaced anyway, if the Council stuck tae their pattern.”

Alan stood, slipping the ledger under his arm. “There’s no point complaining.” his free hand brushed over back a few strands of brown hair hanging in his face. “Now, we should get to it if we plan on going by schedule.”

“I think we ‘ave a righ’ tae complain.” the blonde countered, not dropping the subject so easily. “Especially when she’s comin’ _t’morrow_.” his arms tensed, tightened against his chest. “Spears shouldn’t leave somethin’ like tha’ tae the last second. ’s no’ like ‘im.”

“We heard him. He’s been overwhelmed recently and he’s bound to miss-schedule some things in his career.” he caught something else in Eric’s eyes before the blonde turned his head away. Worry, if Alan could guess correctly. Reaching up, he rested his hand on Eric’s folded arms, rubbing soothingly over the top forearm, grabbing Eric’s attention again. “I know you don’t like her, but—”

“‘ate ‘er.” he corrected, though his arms lost some tension to Alan’s soothing. Finally, they dropped back to his side. “Sorry Al, ’s jus’…I dunno.” he flicked his eyes to the archway. “It felt weird tae be around ‘er last time we met. I jus’ ‘ad a bad feelin’ about ‘er.”

“I found her company enjoyable.”

Eric rolled his eyes. “Ye two barely talked.

“Exactly.”

Eric’s frown quickly gave away to a chortle, his natural smile back in place, the brunette matching it with a playful smile. “Well, ye always get along with the everyone real well.”

“I try.”

Eric grinned, nudging Alan’s playfully. “Hey, since ye get along with everyone, maybe ye can ‘elp me ‘get along’ with this lad I’ve got me eyes on.”

Alan cocked an eyebrow, leaning on his right foot with a hand on his hip. “Really? Eric _Slingby_ needs _my_ help in trying to whoo someone?” there was faux shock in his voice. “My, this must be serious.”

The blonde shoved his shoulder, chuckling. “Ha ha.”

Alan snickered. “Well, what advice do you want then?”

“Ye see, I got me sights on a lad bu’ cannae figure out, fer the life o’ me, ‘ow tae make ‘im notice me.” he leant over, enough to keep from irritating his ribs as well as lock eyes with Alan. “We even stare right into each others eyes an’ ‘e still doesn’t get it.”

Alan tapped a finger to his chin, humming to himself. “I’m not sure if Ronald’s interested. Sorry Eric, but I think he’s infatuated with someone else.”

Eric blinked, his head following Alan as he passed by before easily catching up with his partner, lightly slapping him on the back. “Wanker.” Alan laughed softly, a gentle sound Eric wanted to treasure for as long as possible, before he was gone. It was nice to know Alan could still find joy with the cards he was dealt.

Rounding the corner, Alan ended up colliding with someone, the death list dropping from under his arm as he and Thea tumbled away from each other. “Ow.” he winced. “Oh, I’m sorry!” he quickly apologized when he regained himself.

Thea hasity waved her hand, offering a lopsided smile. “It’s okay. I think it was more my fault anyway. Too busy thinking about Ronald’s scythe.”

“Sae yer the lass in charge o’ fixin’ it, huh?” Eric asked, having bent down to retrieve the fallen ledger, tucking it securely under his arm.

“Yep.” she shrugged. “But it’s work, I guess.” she looked between the two, holding her hand out to Alan. “Thea.” she introduced.

“Alan.” he shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You too,” she waved to Eric, “and you.”

Eric shoved his hand into his trouser pocket. “Aye, ye should know me by now.”

“Been to the scythe department a bit too much?” Alan asked, giving him a look.

“Er, aye.” he admitted. “I ‘ave, bu’ ’s no’ like I wanted tae.”

“Uh huh, suuuure.”

That combined with Alan’s doubtful gaze caused Eric to cover Alan’s eyes with his palm, his hand large enough to cover nearly the entire top half of Alan’s face. “’s no’ my fault most of the women work in tha’ department.”

Alan titled his head. “And here you were asking for my advice on lads.”

“Still want it. Ne’er said I dinnae.”

Thea pressed her lips tightly together, fighting back the urge to laugh at the longing look Eric was giving his partner since Alan couldn't see it. There was definitely a lot more emotion in his eyes when staring at Alan then whenever he came to chat up the women behind the tills. “It’s nice to see you two together.”

“Together?” Alan pushed Eric’s hand away. “We are most of the time, aren’t we?” he was confused, looking at Eric.

She bit her lip, realizing their relationship wasn’t what it looked like. “I think the lass means no’ on the field.” Eric said.

“Yeah!” Thea nodded quickly. “What he said.”

“Oh.” Alan scratched the side of his head, thinking. “But, even off the field, we’re— ”

“Sae Thea, how long do ye think Knox is gonna be off reapin’ duty?”

Alan frowned but didn’t push the odd subject. Instead, he focus on Thea, curious about Ronald’s scythe just as much. “Um…I really have no idea. I mean, I have the parts and everything, but having to unfold all that metal…and I’m really not looking forward to opening the hood and seeing what the engine looks like.”

“Couldn’t you secretly just replace it?” Alan suggested.

“Thought about it, but Ronald has these special marks on his that he’d know right away if they were gone and I can’t say I fixed them. He likes them, says they make his baby, _his_ baby.”

Eric rolled his eyes. “Jus’ tell the lad tae suck it up an’ get ‘im a new one. ’s no’ fair ye have tae try an’ repair a scythe tha’ look like tha’.”

“Technically is is.” Alan corrected. “They are called the Scythe Department fro a reason.”

“Aye, bu’ normally it’s from trainin’ with another scythe and it gets dinged up a bit, ‘r fer cleanin’, no’…whatever the fuck Knox did.”

“Demon.” Thea and Alan spoke together.

Eric gave them both a look. “Ye dun really believe tha’, do ye? A demon?”

“Well, what else could have done that?”

“Even if it was a demon, a four armed one tha’ moved as fast as Ron said? That’s bullshit.”

“Well, I do have to agree with that.”

“How are you two so sure?” Thea questioned. “Don’t new demons pop up all the time? Who’s to say a demon liked that _couldn’t_ exist.”

“Like we told Ronald, most demons are no bigger then a rock. Demons in general don’t have the energy or power to create any new, stronger, demons.” Alan explained. “The only big demons you need to be wary of are Demon Scouts, but they only come around when something big is happening in the Underworld.”

“Aye. Sae, if ye see one, then ye’d better run then report it righ’ away. We need to be ahead o’ those thin’s.” Eric finished.

“Since I’m not out there, like you two, what do Demon Scouts look like? Or…do I want to know?”

“Well, it’d be best if you did, just in case. First off, they’re very tall,” he stood up on his tiptoes, reaching his hand above Eric’s head. “A lot taller then Eric, normally seven to eight feet.” he returned to the soles of his feet. “Secondly, their eyes are fully blood red with ram horns sicking out the top of their head. Their skin generally looks rough and inky black to easily blend in with the shadows. Lastly, they have _very_ sharp claws. Unlike the normal Crawlers or Contract Demons, you can tell a Scout quite easily from the rest.”

“They’re also very strong.” Eric added. “Heard they snapped a reapers back o’er their knee like a twig.”

She winced, placing one hand on her back and shivering just slightly when imaging how that must have felt. “Did the reaper…?”

“Unfortunately, they weren’t able to recover. No one saw him after the news of his permeant back injury spread. How he was never able to recover is still a mystery, but Eric and I were only told this story. We weren’t, ah, around when it happened.”

“Which ‘m ‘appy about’. Dinnae meet a Scout face tae face.”

“I’m glad I never will.” she agreed. “Anyway, I better grab some tea then get back to work. I might have to put in overtime.” she laughed.

“Good luck lass. We ‘ave our reaps tae get tae, sae we should be headin’ out too.” returning the ledger back to Alan .”Ready?”

“Mmhm.” he smiled at Thea. “It was nice to meet you.”

“You too.” she returned his smile. “See you two later.”

Eric nodded while Alan offered a proper goodbye, “Au revoir.” Thea passed them and as they proceeded forward, Eric sighed, slinging his arm around Alan’s shoulders. “What?”

“If ye wanted, ye could ‘ave sae many lads hangin’ off yer arm. Try tha’ gentleman act on any flames an’ they’ll be putty in yer hands.”

Alan waved his hand. “The idea of making notches on my bedpost doesn’t appeal to me.”

“Why? Ye already ‘ave one, sae why not make another?”

Alan made a face. “I do? Who?”

“Lefty counts, dun ‘e?”

Alan face flamed, the leader becoming a weapon to smack across Eric’s arm, the older reaper practically doubling over from laughter. “Whoa there Alan, wha’d Eric do this time?” Ronald’s voice broke through, hardly holding back his own snickering at his elders playful eating.

“Just being Eric.” the brunette huffed, rubbing his free hand over his face.

“Then smack him a few times for me.”

He did so until Eric’s laugher faded. “Alrigh’, ‘m good.” he heaved, coughing once to get some of his breath back. “Sae, mornin’ ron. Wha’ are ye doin’ outta yer office? Dun ye ‘ave all tha’ paperwork tae work on?”

“Yep, but first, coffee. What you? How’s your ribs?”

“Ah, they’re better. Still throb if I move wrong, bu’ it’s better then yesterday.”

“Good t’ hear. Don’t want Eric-senpai down and out.”

“It’s gonna take a lot more then broken ribs tae take me out.”

Alan pat Eric’s back. “You’re too stubborn, you know that? Broken ribs certainly hinder your ability meaning if we come across a demon, you’re sitting out.”

“Fuck no. ‘m no’ lettin’ ye take a demon on alone.”

“You can hardly lean forward let alone fight.”

Ronald laughed at them, the looks he revived hardly quelling it. “It’s like mum chastising dad!” he blurted, laughing a little harder at their surprise.

Alan looked to his partner then frowned back at Ronald. “I’m not chastising him!”

“Yeah, y’ are.” he pat Alan’s shoulder as he passed. “It’s okay. One day y’ll admit it.”

He ducked away before Alan could say anything, hearing the tail end of Eric’s won laughter. It was quite obvious where Eric’s affections lay and everyone was very aware of that. Of course, some would give Eric subtle glares or talk behind his back mostly petty secretaries who missed when Eric would come up to them and offer a night to spend with him. Ronald wasn’t sure why Eric decided to stop his rendezvous, it wasn’t like the object of his affections was paying him any attention. Then again, Ronald could heavily relate. The woman his affections were for was either oblivious or just flat out ignoring his advances. He really hoped it was the former.

As the time had progressed more into the morning, the break room was it’s usual crowed place; reapers getting their caffeine for the day or meeting up with associates or partners for quick morning chats before heading on their way. Ronald just considered himself lucky, seeing Thea pouring herself a cu of tea. Clearing his throat, he made sure his suit was int he best condition he could get it before sliding up to her, offering his charming smile. “Mornin’.”

“Morning.”

“So, how was your night last night?”

“Fine.” she shrugged. “Just have a mini stress out over your scythe.”

Ronald winced, rubbing the back of his head. “Ah, yeah. Heh, um…thanks again, for takin’ care of it.”

“It’s my job.” she shrugged. “I mean, I might be able to butter up the boss for some sort of special reward for fixing a scythe like this, so there might be some positives in it.” she smirked.

Ronald nervously laughed. “Ha, yeah…y’know if he saw my scythe, I’d be dead, right?”

“Maybe it’d be incentive not to do it again?”

“Oh, Thea! Please! I begged already, don’t make me again.”

She giggled behind the rim of her teacup. “You know I won’t. Besides, someone has probably already told him how bad it is.”

“ _Told_. He hasn’t actually seen it and I hope he never does until it’s fixed.”

“You sure? I mean, I know Mr. Spears might not have the biggest imagination but I bet if he’s told that a scythe is damage this badly, he might conjure up spectacular image.”

“Now you’re making me paranoid.” he uttered, reaching upward to the top cabinets to retrieve a coffee mug.

“Maybe even Alan or Eric said something. I mean, they didn’t mention it if they did when I talk to them, but they could have and I’m sure Mr. Spears would believe them more then he’d believe whatever description you have.”

He paused while pouring his coffee, his mind repeating that she had spoken to Alan and Eric. Eric, he knew was no problem, but Alan? Ronald didn’t know Alan on a personal level, only really knew the brunette through Eric. He knew somethings but didn’t know if Alan would end up being competition. He was smart and, Ronald supposed, handsome enough. Was Alan even experienced in relationships? Would Alan be able to please when it cam to—No! That was a train of thought he gladly derailed. “Talk to Alan and Eric, huh?”

“I did.”

“So…ah, what’d y’ think of Alan?”

She founded it an odd question but answered after a drink from her tea. “He’s nice. Exactly how his reputation proceeds him.”

“Just nice?”

“Yeah…just nice. Why?”

Ronald shrugged, drinking from his mug. “Curious, is all.” he cleared this throat. “Anyway, I was wonderin’ if—”

“Sorry Ronald, but I have a scythe to fix.” she gave him an apologetic smile. “Maybe we can talk later on a break, or after work?”

“Yeah!” his eyes brightened. “I’d like that.”

She waved kindly to him while exiting the room. Once she was out of sight, Ronald instantly began planning. He wanted to ask her to dinner or for a simple walk through on of London's parks without sounding as excited as he felt. Normally, this would have been easy, he’d asked out so many secretaries, the death scythe woman, even some mortal woman for a day of mischief, but Thea wasn’t, hopefully, going to be a one time thing. Thea, would hopefully, end up being—“Morning Ronald!”

The blonde practically jumped out of his skin, barely avoiding spilling the hot coffee over the younger reaper. “Damn Arthur, don’t do that!”

“Sorry.” he apologized, sheepishly tapping his fingers together. “But, morning.”

Ronald scanned the reaper; something was off about him. “It’s fine.” his eyes swept upward, freezing on the familiar cowlick in Arthur's bangs. He had the urge to reach up and feel his own to make sure it was cut off and Arthur was using it as it was nearly identical to his own. “Y’ need somethin’?”

“Nope. You just looked like you were thinkin’ real hard about somethin’.”

“Kinda was, yeah.”

Arthur scooted closer. “Who was she?”

Ronald stepped sideways, moving away from him. “A friend.”

“Friend?”

“Yeah.” Ronald felt the prickle of caution make its way up his spine, his gut instinct telling him to bolt; to get as far away from this reaper as possible. Even if Arthur was closing in on him, seeming intent to pin him to the wall and enclose him in that small space, Ronald wasn’t quite sure why he had that instinct. He was older and stronger then Arthur was, fighting him off, if need be, wouldn’t be a problem. Still, he obeyed his instincts, ducking to the side just as Arthur took a big step forward. “Well, nice talkin’ t’ y’. See y’ later!” he waved, jogging backward before disappearing around the corner, rapidly making his way back to his office. The door was locked once it was closed and he took a moment to gather himself when he sat at his desk. Arthur was weird, he wouldn’t deny it, but he also would have felt bad for chastising the younger reaper for something as flattery as admiration, thus he decided to forget about the encounter and instead, get back to work.

Setting his coffee mug down, the papers lay before him, waiting. Sighing to himself, he picked up his pen and got down to work, any thoughts of dates put on hold.

 

_______________________________________

 

Patience was even running thin for Alan by this point. They’d begun their reaps when the rare sun was out. Though still chilled from autumn weather, having a natural light was one of the better ways to start collecting. Then London decided to be London and the sun was covered again by grey clouds. Alan didn’t want to say it, Eric nearly praying but both of them cussed the sky when it opened up; soaking them to the bone in mere seconds. They looked at each other, hair soaked, light and dark strands sticking to their face, lenses becoming spotted, clothes soggy. Considering they had only collected the first two souls on their list, the rest of their collections were going to be spent drenched.

Eric lost track at what soul they were on, his mind focusing on the only good thing that came form the rain; his selfish admiring of a dripping wet Alan. Even the pout didn’t deter Eric from his staring; almost made him stare more.

Still though, when his eyes were off Alan, focused on the cadaver he was crouched beside, he could feel the bitter edge of annoyance. The cinematic reel before him didn’t help to take his mind off the misery of the day, Alan’s constant sighing behind him doing nothing for either of their moods.

Looking over his shoulder, Alan was standing with his shoulders hunched up, nearly to his ears. While one hand held their death list he read over, the other shielded the ivory sheets from the fat droplets continuing their barrage over the earth. He looked just as dreary as Eric did. “Hey, yer no’ reapin’, sae why dun ye find a tree ‘r somethin’ tae stand under an’ dry off?”

Alan half smiled at him, though not for trying in this weather. “If you have to suffer in the rain, I’ll suffer with you.”

“Awe, yer sweet.”

Alan snapped the ledger shut while approaching Eric. His lips fully broke into a smile though it quickly dropped upon seeing the gouged out chest of the man at Eric’s feet. “Ugh, that looks awful.”

“Aye.” Eric agreed, concentrating again on the memory reel. “So far, I ‘aven’t got tae the part where ‘e died.”

“I see.” setting one hand on Eric’s shoulder, Alan leant down, nearly able to press their cheeks together. He pushed up his glasses before readjusting his grip on Eric’s shoulder, brow drawing together. “They look like claw marks.”

Ignoring how close Alan was, he chose to examine the marks. “Mm, ye know, they do.” he felt Alan’s hand tense on his shoulder. “Damn creatures, huh?”

“Exactly.” he flipped open the ledger for a second to retrieve the mans name. “Jasper Graham, the poor man. Do you know if he had any family?”

“Pregnant wife.” Eric’s face fell, a lump forming in his throat. “The poor lass.”

“The poor child.” Alan’s hand slipped from his shoulder, encircling around his upper chest, a variation of a hug. “It’s moments like these where I wish those bloody creatures would just burn back in Hell where they belong.”

Eric placed his hand on Alan’s forearm, squeezing gently. “Agreed.”

Both of them watched silently as the reel finally came to end, however, it was what ended the reel that scared them. Ronald mentioned the demon that attacked him had four arms, just like the creature that killed the man at their feet. Alan hugged Eric tighter, his eyes wide in disbelief, Eric scowling. “Tha’ thin’s real?”

“S-Seems so…” Alan straightened, clutching the death ledger to his chest. “Eric, I don’t feel very safe.”

“No, I dun either.” collecting the reel, Eric turned to make a portal home. With an easy flick of his wrist, their way home opened only to close immediately before either could even think of going through. “The hell?” he tried again and again and again, but all attempts ended the same. “Alan,” his hand tightened on the handle of his scythe, “brace yerself.”

“Do you sense something?” he could hear the worry in his own voice as he summoned his scythe.

“No’ yet.” Alan pressed his back to Eric’s, scanning the dense tree line of the small clearing they were in. There was nothing so far, only the sounds of rain against leaves. A surge of unease washed over Alan, his instincts telling him to run as far as he could, take Eric with him and run but not only was he concerned by the fact he still saw nothing but Eric, with his ribs, he was in no condition to run or fight. Eric’s only thought was defend Alan.

Unsure how long they remained still, they were finally greeted with a new sound. It was a low rumble deep in the breast of the creature that emerged from the thicket. What Ronald had described was right in front of them: Tall, towering over Eric’s 6’’ frame, another set of arms emerging (almost looked liked they were stitched on) from its torso, just under the normal pair. The claws were sharp enough to slice through steel, leave a bleeding, gaping gash in flesh with nothing more then a swipe. Its eyes were just black, empty, soulless voids, the skin reddish black; rock-like in texture. Large ram horns emerged from the side of its head, its lower jaw protruding allowing room for sharp fangs, black ooze dripping from its maw. “Bloody fuck…” Eric muttered. Alan pressed closer to him. For all what they were expecting, the demon had yet to notice them, hunched and stalking the outside rim of the clearing. “Alan,” Eric whispered, “try again tae make a portal.”

He snapped his attention to Eric, large eyes telling the blonde Alan was ready to argue but his senses got the better of him before he could. Nodding, Alan shifted the death ledger under the arm holding his scythe before dropping his arm to hold it behind himself. Like Eric, all it took was a flick of his wrist to make their way home; in a second they gained the demons attention. “Damn it.” Alan cussed when the portal collapsed. “Eric—”

“Alan, ye aren’t fightin’.” Eric growled out. What would have been eyes were staring at them, the creature snarling. “I want ye tae get yerself ‘ome.”

“And leave you behind with this thing?!”

“Aye.”

Alan was interrupted as the demon charged, the creature colliding hard with Eric’s scythe; the reaper planting his feet firmly in the ground though he was forced backward, Alan pressing hard against Eric to steady him. “Alan.”

“I’m not leaving.” he protested. “And if I am, you’re coming with me.” though he knew it was an awful idea. His sickness wouldn’t be able to handle it. Even just barely fighting back the creature, he could feel the telling throbbing in his chest. Eric wasn’t holding up well either, with his ribs in the state they were.

Suddenly, just as he ducked under an arm, an idea struck him. He just needed Eric to distract the creature. “Eric, hold out the best you can!” he called out before shoving away the guilt when he ran from battle.

Grinding his teeth together, Eric heaved forward, shoving the creature back. He was hesitant to call it a demon despite it having the same scent of the rest of the Hellish beings. He lunged forward, his ribs protesting at every move he made. They protested hard at fighting, a small voice in the back of his mind telling him he didn’t have a chance; that he should just lay down and die since he wasn’t even in the best shape to run. Besides, Alan told him to hold out. He knew Alan had an idea, he just want to live to see what that idea was.

The creature slashed across his torso, one set of claws of the two able to cut through his dress shirt, catch on his skin and rip a large gash over his bruise. He grunted, nearly bowing over. He refused, forcing his body upright, forcing himself to push forward. His scythe landed a few good blows on the creature, the black gunk oozing from the demons mouth, bled from the wounds he created.

Lunging in for another slice, ignoring the blood seeping from his wounds, staining his dress shirt forcing it to cling to his skin along with the rain, he stepped wrong, slipping on the mud. It gave the demon a short, but clear window to snatch his wrist, easily snapping the appended backward, breaking the bones. Eric forced back a cry, his scythe dropping with a thud to the muddy ground, his body dropping to his knees right after, the demon still gripping tightly to his limp wrist.

Eric expected to be killed, instead the creature lifted him up to quickly slammed him to the ground, back cracking with the force of it. His body cried out in agony but again he girt his teeth, refusing to give in to the pain.

The creature let him go long enough for him to force his body to roll to his stomach, reaching out with his good hand to grab his scythe. Barely able to curl his fingers around the handle, the creature yanked him back toward it by his calf. His strength and aim wasn’t the best with this hand, but with one good swing, he sliced off one of the demons four arms, however that still left three and the creature used them.

Easily wrestling the scythe from Eric’s grasp, two hands held Eric’s arms at his side, the other was poised over his chest. If the corpse near them was any indication, the creature wanted to tear his chest open, rip out whatever it wanted; the black gunk dripping to Eric’s cheek. At this point, Eric didn’t have any choice but to let the creature do what it wanted.

A familiar scythe careened over Eric’s head, puncturing the demon in the right eye. It did nothing to faze the creature. Instead, it merely lifted its head with William’s scythe still stuck deep in its eye socket. “You have no right to devour any of my reapers.” William nearly snarled out, his composure having already starting to crack once dawn had rose. “Do you speak like the rest of your kind or are you just a dog you’re so often compared to?” he retracted his scythe, continuing to approach.

Eric was ready to warn William that this ‘demon’ wasn’t meant to be tested but to his surprise, the demon dismounted him, growling as it cowered back like a hound. It disappeared fairly quickly in the shadows of the trees. “Eric.” William was knelt next to him, worry hardly concealed behind his stoic mask. “Are you alright?”

“My wrist fuckin’ hurts, no’ tae mention this,” he gestured to the open gash in his chest, “bu’ ‘m good otherwise.” he set his good hand on William’s shoulder, the other reaper helping him sit up. “Yeah, tha’ demon Ron was talkin’ about? I think tha’ was it.”

“No doubt which is terrifying.” he grimaced at the black ooze on Eric’s cheek. “The devil is this?” he swiped some off, rubbing it between his index finger and thumb.

“Came from tha’ thin’s mouth.” he reached up to get the rest off but William grabbed his hand. “Wha’?”

“Leave it. I want this taken to Othello to see what sort of demon that was.”

“Damn, I jus’ want a bath.”

“I don’t blame you.” he stood up, offering his hand.

Eric grasped that hand, heaving himself to his feet with William’s help. “Fuckin’ hell.” he was hunched over, good hand pressing tightly over the bleeding wound. “How the hell did y’—Alan!” he cussed again when he shot up straight.

“Ease yourself.” William said, Eric hunching over again. “Alan’s safe and I’m sure he’ll be grateful to see you the same.”

“Sae ‘e got ye?”

“He did.” he paused only to scan the trees. “Though I’m unsure why the demon retreated at my presence.”

“No’ complainin’.”

“No, I suppose not.” he flicked his wrist, the portal opening and staying open. “Come along. The infirmary for you.”

“Again.” he grumbled though it was nice to step through to safety. “Sorry ye ‘ad tae come save me sorry arse. Gettin’ ye soaked an’ taken ye away from yer work.”

“I’ll be sure to have you compensate me later.” he escorted Eric to the infirmary, not able to shake the sense of dread falling over him. He should have been pleased Eric was alive but something kept him from being truly eased; eyes keeping him from fully breaking his composure to completely show his relief Eric was safe, eyes that weren’t his reapers.

“Back again Mr. Slingby?” the doctor said, only pausing when he saw Eric’s new wound. “Oh my…”

“Yeah, ‘m back, bu’ no’ just with broke ribs.”

“So I see. Well, come lay down and we’ll sort this out.”

“No’ until I see Alan. I wanna-”

“You won’t be doing much until you get yourself fixed.” William pressed on Eric’s shoulder, getting the blonde to sit on the edge of the hospital bed. “If you’d like, I’ll retrieve Humphries for you.”

“Aye, please Spears.”

“Very well.” he nodded to the doctor. “Be sure to fix him up quick.”

“I shall Mr. Spears.” William remained a second longer, being sure Eric wasn’t going to bolt the moment he left, before heading to retrieve the partner of the Scotsman. 

Sat in the break room, still soaked, Alan’s hand rubbed in continuous circles over his chest, a frown tugging at the corner of William’s lips. He knew those signs. “Humphries.” Alan shot to his feet, all the questions he needed to ask said through his distressed expression. “Eric is alive and in the infirmary. There was more damage done yet he’s still in high spirits.”

“Oh thank Styx.” Alan deflated in heavy relief. “I was so worried I wouldn’t get help in time.”

“You did. Though,” Alan met his eyes, “what of you? How are you fairing?” Alan said nothing, again the answer William needed portrayed through expression alone. “I see.” he stepped aside. “Eric’s requested you.” Fleeing to his partner, William hardly kept his eyes from softening as he watched Alan disappear behind the infirmary doors. He was pleased it wasn’t a full on attack but the signs Alan was showing meant he needed to be monitored for when the full effect of his illness claimed him.

Alan had to be shoved from his mind now. He had far more important matters to attend to, such as letting the Council know of this demon that was wandering the mortal realm. It resembled a Demon Scout but there was something just off enough for William to dismiss that title. Demon Scouts were intelligent, spoke like a well mannered man, they did not act like Demon Hounds, only out for blood.

Schooling his features to the stoic reaper his colleagues always saw him as, he made his way back to his office, needing to retrieve the ‘request key’ from his top drawer to try and gain access to the Council’s realm to warn them of this new beast. Part of him already knew there was a new creature afoot, if Ronald’s description of his scythe was any indication, but he’d wanted to believe differently until he received solid evidence. Seeing the demon with his own two eyes was evidence enough.

The door closed behind him, his scythe materializing into the void where he would call upon it when he needed it. The rain pelted harshly against the windows reminding him of how cold he was; soaked beyond comfort, hair falling out of place, strands of his bangs falling in front of his eyes.

The air grew colder, to the point he could see his breath in front of him; his heavy breathing suddenly very apparent. His entire body had frozen up, he could hardly blink. The colder it grew, the more William was aware of the prickling he could feel over his bare skin; little needles jabbing into his flesh.

Soon following the frozen air, a thick, dark presence loomed over him, his eyes flicking back and forth for any sign of movement, for help. The curtains were suddenly drawn shut. He swallowed, a hard task when it felt like his throat was closing; lightening struck, the lights flickered then burst, casting him into the same darkness he could feel directly behind him, embracing him. Thunder boomed seconds later, his eyes wide feeling disembodied hands form from the dark, running down his arms. He could see them, demon hands that were somehow blacker then the darkness of his office. They reached his hands, squeezing them almost fondly. In his ear, a smooth voice sounding like silk breathed into his ear, “afternoon, Spears.” His arms were lifted, his fingers twitching as the demons hands slowly peeled off his gloves, carefully curling under the hem of the leather, slowly barring his pale flesh to the freezing air. “You know what I need and you _will_ give it to me.” the voice hissed, shivers running down his spine.

Dead hands grasped at Death’s hands, squeezing them until William swore he heard a crunch. He could no longer feel, his entire body numb; relaying on what little sight he had, his hearing poisoned by the voice, the breath, still caressing the shell of his right ear. “Unhand me!” in his mind, the words were strong, his tone serious, strict, deadly, but they came out nearly a whimper, his mouth barely allowing him those words, “demon…”

The darkness grew thicker to the point he felt like he was drowning. His chest heaved, his body shaking uncontrollably, his eyes glued to the hands on his. He could see those claws; sharp, deadly, glossy in what small light emanated through the sliver of the curtains; they were ready. All his receptors, all his attention, brought to the deep, clawing agony as the demons claws sunk into his flesh. Words were stuck again, blood oozing from the wounds. The pain travelled quickly to the rest of his body; feeling like he’d been thrown into an inferno, the same flames that no doubt created the creature paining him.

He was shaking, tears welling in the corner of his eyes, a wetness he fought back; only spilling over when the burning increased. He could see it, a purple little flame burning into his flesh that was the top of his left hand, slowly creating an all to familiar mark. He forced his body into struggling, fighting his damnedest against the demon holding him still but nothing helped. The harder he struggled, the deeper the flame would go until the pentagram was done.

Just as he thought the pain was over, the flame began again, creating another star in the center of the bigger one. Deeper still which he didn’t think was possible. The only sounds he couldn’t hold back were whimpers, humiliation blending with fury and pain, this demon only grinning next to his ear, fangs nipping at his earlobe.

His other hand was dropped, allowing the demon the freedom to trail his fingers up his chest to his throat, cupping it and squeezing enough to add to the discomfort; feeling William’s adams’s apple bob with a painful swallow. “You. Are. _Mine_.”

The flame went out and he was thrust forward, forced to his knees; cradling his injured hand to his chest. His eyes were squeezed shut, hardly paying attention to the fading cold and darkness, or the curtains being drawn back. He only braved opening his eyes when the lights flickered back on. He stared ahead of himself, his good hand covering the marked one. He had to build up the courage enough to finally look at the mark burned into his hand. Taking his good hand away, he nearly retched at what he saw. A Faustian contract. “D-Demon,” he winced at the pain in his voice, “what have you done to me?”

The demon knelt before him, smiling like the grand butler he was. In reply to William, he simply grabbed his marked hand, the burning sensation returning with a vengeance so suddenly William cried out, trying desperately to squirm and yank his hand away. “I’ve marked you, meaning no more running,” as he spoke, his grip continued to constrict, “as I said. _Mine_.”

He allowed William freedom, the reaper yanking himself away from the demon, pressing his back against his desk. “Get the hell out of here!” he demanded, forcing his voice to sound strong.

“Unfortunate for you, I hold the power in this relationship.”

“What do you mean? This is a Faustian contract. Demons have no power in it.”

Sebastian paced the office, ruby eyes never leaving emeralds. “This is no normal contract, as I’m sure you can tell. You did not ask nor did you want it, but _I_ did.”

“You?”

Kneeling down again, Sebastian brushed a strand of black hair from William’s face, smoothing it back into his raven locks. “I’ve asked you twice, dear William, and you replied that you, indeed, know the artifact I want.”

William wished he could push himself farther away from the demon, perhaps fall into a void when he realized what Sebastian was implying. “You want me to get you the Red Record?”

“Ah, so it has a name.” the demon nodded. “It should be obvious, but yes, I need you to get this ‘Red Record’ for me.”

“I…I won’t. No.” William shoved Sebastian backward before reaching up to press his palm to the surface of his desk, hoisting himself up, injured hand still held protectively against his chest. His legs felt wobbly, his body still recovering much too slowly for William’s liking. “There is no way in hell, _demon_ , that you’ll force me to give you the Record.” William was instantly thrown on his desk, his back slamming hard into the wood, scattering a few papers, knocking his pen to the floor and nearly knocking over the inkwell. 

Sebastian's hand was tight around his throat, William just now realizing how easy it would be for Sebastian to kill him in this state. “I’m afraid, William, you haven’t a choice.” his good hand scraped at Sebastian’s, the demon just shaking his head. Though he loosened his grip on William’s throat, he snatched William’s marked hand, squeezing to the point of crushing. William abandoned the hand around his throat to try prying Sebastian off his other hand. There was something so satisfying seeing the mighty Mr. Spears in a position like this, whimpering, scowling, desperate. “Well William? Will you get me this Record?”

“I-I can’t!” he forced out.

“Hm?” Sebastian eased up both grips, allowing him to speak coherently.

“I can’t.” he coughed out. “Not only is it under high surveillance in the Council’s Realm, which I have _very_ limited access to, I have no idea where in the realm it even bloody is!” normally doing so to Grell, he forced Sebastian off him with his hand over his face.

Sebastian went without force, hands folding behind his back as William righted himself. “I’m not concerned on how you get it, just that you do. May I remind you of what little choice you have here?”

“The choice of either doing as I’m told or execution? No, you do not.” he stared at his hand, brows furrowed in annoyance and fury, his voice raw and sore. “How did you get into our realm?”

Sebastian tapped his fingers to his lips. “Now that’s my little secret. Can’t go giving it away, can I? You might lock me out next time.”

William glowered. “Then, can’t I ignore this? It isn’t like you have power over me.” 

“Very true, however, if I recall, you do have a special guest coming tomorrow and it’d be a shame for her to tell the Council to shut down your district because of a demon infestation.”

William winced, knowing the demon would stoop to such levels. “How did you know?”

“The memo sits on your desk.” Sebastian replied, gesturing to the offending paper on the wooden surface, one of the few that didn’t fly off. He clapped his hands together. “Now then, I believe we have a good understanding.” flinching when Sebastian touched him, the demon merely appeared with his black gloves, sliding on the right then ever so carefully sliding on the left, letting this fingers graze the mark, sending little jolts through William’s skin. “No one will know.” he lifted William’s marked hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. “It’ll be our little secret.”

William stared, his eyes falling back into emotionless pools of greens and yellows but the rage inside him built until he used his left to leave a red, bruising slap on the demons cheek. “Get the bloody hell out of my office.”

Sebastian bowed, his smirk never faltering. “Of course.” Only when Sebastian was gone did William drop to his knees, using his good hand to support his hunched body. He ached, his entire world suddenly flipped on his head, his emotions running in all different directions, reigning them in the best he could, burying the urge to scream.

He took a moment to pull himself together, refusing to show the demon, wherever he disappeared to, that he was stronger then this damned mark. He was going to prove to Sebastian that this mark was not going to hinder him.

With some sort of mental clarity returning, he was faced with his mess of a desk. The nagging voice in his head whenever something was slightly out of place was there, in the back of his mind, nattering at him to clean everything up immediately. Wealth and power was shown in perfection, he had to show he was the boss, their superior.

With his injured hand still held securely to his chest, he began cleaning up. The papers were organized neatly, the pen was placed a specific distance from the main paper he was working on and straight as well. The inkwell was returned to its original spot; everything was finally back in place no thanks to the demon that destroyed his organization.

Now, he just wanted to forget everything that happened. He knew there was work on his desk, important work he needed to be done by tomorrow, the memo itself almost glowing to be sure it had his attention, but right now, all William wanted was a moment of peace. Peace he nearly received until the knock at his office door.

He took a deep breath, calming his agitation before going to open the door. Alan greeted him with a fresh and dry suite. It reminded him of the damp suit still clinging to his own body. “Is everything alright, Humphries?”

“Yes sir, I just wanted to come by and give you an update with Eric.”

“Please do. Is he going to be capable to work soon?”

Alan seemed to notice how William cradled his left hand, though said nothing and replied to the question with exasperation mixed with amusement. “It’s Eric, sir. Though the doctor has said for him to take it easy, just like his broken ribs, he’s adamant he’ll be reaping tomorrow. I was at least able to get him to take the rest of the day off.”

“I’m pleased to hear it wasn’t as severe as it looked.”

“No. The wounds were already closing on their own and his wrist was easily set.” he rubbed his own wrist at the thought of it breaking. “Also, that black gunk was sent to forensics and the results should come in this week or the next.”

“The sooner the better. That creature wasn’t a demon I’m aware of.”

“No, it wasn’t.” the younger reaper shifted on his feet, an unasked question hiding behind those emerald pools. “Sir, may I have your permission to finish reaping today, alone?”

William cocked an eyebrow and would have crossed his arms if his hand didn’t protest when even slightly moving it. “Alone? After seeing that creature and what it did to Slingby, you not only wish to reap, but to do so _alone_?”

“Yes sir. I admit, it may not be the smartest idea, but not only will those souls go un-reaped for an extra day, prime targets for proper demons, I’d like to prove myself, that I don’t necessarily need a partner all the time.”

There was another reason lurking behind Alan’s given two but William didn't press it. He was already in a poor mood and feared he’d end up taking his anger out on the reaper who didn’t deserve it. “If you’re sure you’re up for the task, then do so.”

“Thank you sir.” Alan bowed. “I promise, I’ll be quick on my feet and won’t end up with Eric in the infirmary.”

“You had better not. We don’t need another reaper out of commission slowing down productivity even more so.” _or for you to have an attack_ William thought, though knew voicing that would just sour Alan’s mood. The younger reaper despised anyone thinking him weak because of his illness and for William to warn him of the pending attack would do more harm then good. 

“I swear I won’t.”

With another bow, Alan was off, scythe summoned and death ledger tucked under his arm. Closing the door, he pressed his forehead against the wood, closing his eyes. In all honesty, he would have been find with a new type of demon making itself known but not when she was due to come tomorrow, where she would make things overly complicated.

Shoving himself away from the door, he made his way to his bedroom, being sure to lock the door once it was closed then opened his bedside table drawer, pulling out the makeshift Cinematic Book, though he didn’t open it. Instead, he dropped to his bed and set the book on the pillow next to him. Closing his eyes, he imagined what it would have been like to have his mother around when he had nightmares when he was alive as a small child. It was childish of him now, but he ached for some sort of comfort, his hand still throbbing which served to remind him he’d only have a death sentence waiting for him if any one found out about this.

Squeezing his eyes shut, trying to forget this entire day, he brought the blanket over himself. He knew he should have been working (better yet getting out of his damp suit) but that was what overtime was meant for. It wasn’t like that was something foreign to him. Right now, he just needed the presence of his mother, even if he had to imagine what a mothers comfort felt like.

 

Lightning flashed across the sky, thunder clapped again. The storm was just beginning.


	4. Chapter 4

It had barely just past eight in the morning when the memo was finally received by the district. it was a little late for Alan’s liking, knowing half the reapers needed at least a days notice, but the memo had already seemed to have the right affect. The normally bustling office building, especially the break room, was ghostly quiet, everyone working hard in their offices, the Library itself quieter then what Alan was used to. He was one of the few souls deciding to do his paperwork out in the open where his work ethic could be judged by the Council Representative. He had no problem with that, knowing he did his work to William’s standers (even above if he wanted to brag) “Honestly, I was hopin’ Spears was jokin’ when ‘e said she was comin’ t’day.”

Eric dropped onto the bench across from him, one hand gripping the memo, the other supporting his cheek with elbow on the table. “When have you ever known Mr. Spears to joke about something?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe it was a ploy tae get us tae work better.”

Alan finished the last line with his signature before giving Eric his full attention, letting the pen rest on the papers. “Well, she is and you’d best get back to work if you don’t want her breathing down your neck.”

Eric groaned, dropping his forehead to the tabletop. “I dun need some bitch tae tell me when tae do me work. I’ll do it when I damn well feel like it. Even ask Spears. I get my shit down on time.”

Alan reached over, patting his arm. “It’s their job to-”

“Shove their noses where they dun belong?”

“To check up on the districts.”  
Rolling his eyes, Eric pulled himself back to sitting. “I do well at me job.”

Alan bit back his laugh. “Reaping, yes. Paperwork? Ah, that’s debatable.” he folded his arms over his papers, leaning on them. “That’s why the last Council Representative was hovering over your shoulder.”

Eric straightened his back. “Ye sure it’s because she was worried about me work ethic?” he winked.

Alan cracked a small smile. “You may be handsome but I’m sure her constant, ‘Mr. Slingby this’ and ‘Mr. Slingby that’ wasn’t flirtation.”

The blonde rubbed the back of his neck. “Ye got a point.” he sighed. “This one better no‘ be like ‘er.”

“If you actually did your work, they wouldn’t need to nag.”

“Still!” he read the memo again. “Hopefully she’ll be too busy with Spears tae care about us.”

“I doubt it.”

He cracked his knuckles then picked up his pen. Overlooking the top page, he set it on the stack of slowly complete papers, set on beginning the second pace only to have the very memo Eric was reading slammed down over his work along with Ronald, “Guys! Did y’ read this?!” his eyes were wide.

“Aye, ‘course we did.” Eric said, waving the identical memo in his hand. “‘sides. It’s no’ a big deal.”

Ronald stared at him. “Not a big deal? Seriously?”

“Aye.”

“Then y’ haven’t read it! It sounds like life or death! What happens if we’re caught not workin’? Pay cut? Demotion?” he gasped. “ _Execution_?!” he bounced around, his imagination on overdrive with consequences he’d get for slacking off.

“Calm yer arse down.” Eric demanded, yanking Ronald by the arm to sit next to him. “First o’ all, yer annoying. Second o’ all, ye ain’t gonna get executed fer slackin’ a wee bit. Yer gonna be fine.”

He took four relaxing breaths, eyes locked with his superiors. “Really?”

“Yes.” Alan assured, setting the memo on his papers with Eric’s. “None of that will happen. The worse punishment you’ll get is overtime for a few weeks.”

“…that’s it?”

“Mmhm.”

“Oh…that’s worse!” he groaned. “At least when you’re demoted or get a pay cut, it’s done like that,” he snapped, “but overtime is _forever_!” he slumped against Eric.

Eric blinked surprised down at Ronald then jerked his thumb at the blonde, staring at Alan with the same look. “Can ye believe this kid?”

Alan laughed. “At least it’s incentive to work better.” he waggled his pen at Ronald. “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah, guess so.” he muttered.

Eric shoved Ronald off him, saying, “’s like workin’ fer an even stricter Spears. Dun slack off an’ ye’ll be fine.”

“Y’ sure?”

“Postive.”

Ronald took his last deep breath. “Okay.” he let it out. “I think I’m good.” he shook out his arms then drummed his fingers on the table. “So, how come I’ve never met a Council Representative before?”

“They dun last long,” Eric replied, “only two years, maybe three.”

“This ones been around for two. If they continue with their scythe, she’ll be gone by next year.”

Ronald cocked his head. “She? Y’ mean _he_ , right?”

“Alan’s righ’. It’s a woman.”

“Really?”

“Mmhm. It’s been men in the past but for the last three, hey’ve been woman. The Council believes constantly switching will leave leave the District Manager on edge instead of making friends if they kept the same Council Representative every time.

“Oh, but still. How come I’ve never met one before?”

“They ‘ave all these districts tae look into. Last year she was in Scotland lookin’ o’er the Glasgow  district. Now she’s comin’ ‘ere.”

Ronald nodded. “Hey, y’ ever miss Scotland?”

Eric shrugged. “Sometimes. Miss it more if Alan was there.” he grinned.

The brunette quickly averted his eyes, shifting awkwardly where he sat before changing the subject. “Anyway, it’s quite a burden for the Council Representative to go around the world and judge every district.”

Eric frowned slightly at Alan’s reaction, sighing internally. “Aye, ’s a big job.”

Ronald looked between them about to say something then deciding against it, instead asking, “has there ever been a district shut down?”

“No’ tha’ we know o’. Maybe in Undertaker’s time but ne’er ours.”

“Yes, we’ve never seen it happen.”

“This is nice and all, but how come you two have yet to tell Ronnie how their devoid of any charm?!” Grell plunked down next to Alan.

“They aren’t trying to be charming.” Alan said, “They’re job is to be a, well, Council Representative. Besides, I find them quite agreeable.”

Grell scoffed. “You’ve only said that about the attractive men.”

Alan flushed a dark red. “A-And women!”

Eric snickered, shaking his head. “How ‘bout ye Red? Ready fer ‘er tae come?”

“No! I don’t like the idea of another woman hanging around Will.”

“Why no’? They’d be perfect together.”

“How?!”

“Both got no personality.”

Huffing, Grell’s mind turned to William. “At least he’s good looking.”

“I don’t think it’s right to be talking about Mr. Spears like that, Eric, Grell.”

Scooting over so fast he nearly knocked Eric from the bench, Ronald made a spot for Thea to sit. “Mornin’.” he smiled.

“Morning.” she returned his smile, taking the offered seat.

“Your district ready for inspection?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be.” she sighed. “I’m a bit nervous. I’ve never met a Council Representative before.”

“Dun worry. Like we told Ron,” Eric began, slapping Ronald upside the head for nearly shoving him to the floor, “jus’ dun slack off an’ do yer job a wee bit better then usual tha’ way the C.R. doesnnae bother ye.”

“Is that all?” she asked as Ronald rubbed the back of his head.

“Aye.”

She took a deep breath. “Well, great! I can do that.”

Eric picked up the memo to read it over for the final time. “Hell. I wish it’d give the exact time she’s supposed tae be ‘ere.”

“Perhaps Mr. Spears left it off internally so you’d start working hard right away…not that it worked anyway.” Alan muttered.

Eric summoned his scythe, examining the teeth. “My reaps dun start until nine. I got time tae waste.”

“Time you could spend finishing up paperwork.”

“‘ time I could spend bullshitting.” he smirked. “Option two sounds better tae me.”

Alan shifted up his glasses, sending Eric a disappointed glance before retuning to his paperwork. “Don’t come crying to me if you end up in trouble.”

Grell leaned against Alan, watching the younger reaper diligently go about his work. “Now, who’s this Ronnie? I haven’t met her before.” his predatory gaze was on Thea.

“Oh!” he put his arm around her shoulders. “Grell, this is Thea. She works int he Death Scythe department and is handling my scythe repair.”

“Hi.” she waved.

“Scythe repair? Normally you fix it yourself.”

Alan cleared his throat. “Not even Ronald could fix the damage done.”

“Really?”

“Aye.”

Ronald nodded then remembered what William said to him yesterday night. “By the way, senpai told me y’ two,” he pointed to Alan and Eric, “saw the demon I told y’ about.”

They looked at each other, Alan then meeting Ronald’s gaze. “We did.”

Ronald jumped up, smacking Eric on the shoulder. “I told y’! I told y’ that demon existed!”

Eric rubbed his shoulder, glaring at the blonde as Alan brushed back his bangs, saying, “you were right Ronald. Where that bloody thing came from is beyond me, but it exists…and that’s something we need to bring up to the Council Representative. If a new demon is out there, one that can destroy a scythe like that, the Council needs to know.”

“What does the Council need to know, exactly?”

Her voice caught their action, all eyes on the woman who was to spend the week evaluating their district. Her hair a dark brown done up in a high tight ponytail, a pair of simple, lavender framed glasses resting on her nose, ears priced with skull studs and her uniform smilier to Thea’s with the black heels. She held a clipboard to her chest, pen behind her ear, gaze scanning over them, increasingly narrowing her eyes when it seemed to be Alan only doing the work. “I’m sure all of you aren’t having a break this early in the morning.” when she locked eyes with Eric’s, the piercing gaze faltered just as Eric’s scowl had.

“No, we’re no’.” Eric said, standing and resting his scythe on his shoulder. He kept their eyes locked seconds longer before rounding the table to yank Grell up by his bicep. “C’mon Red. We should get tae work.”

“Oh, fine.” the redhead whined.

With two gone, the gaze returned to cold as she focused on the remaining reapers, Alan especially. “Now yes. What should the Council know?”

“That would be Ronald’s tale.” he said, gathering up his papers. “I’ll be returning to my office to work. It was a pleasure meeting you.” he nodded to her then was off.

Ronald tried offering her the best smile he could. “Ah, well, y’ see…there’s this new kind of demon that destroyed my scythe.” he used the same story he told Alan and Eric. She merely blinked dully when he finished. “I’m serious.”

“I will need to ask Mr. Spears’s opinion on that.” she said, writing Ronald’s story on her clipboard. “Speaking of whom, where is your superior? I was expecting to be met at the gates.”  
Before they could reply, William was already down the last flight of stairs. “My deepest apologies miss.” he bowed. “I had a few reapers who took up more of my time then I would have liked.”

She nodded. “Very well.” offering her hand, she introduced herself “Eliza Costa, Council Representative third year running.”

“A pleasure to meet you.” he assured, shaking her hand. “Come with me and we’ll get this assessment underway.”

Ronald waited until William had taken Eliza away before facing Thea. “Hey,” he began, keeping her from leaving so soon, “I was wonderin’ if y’ have plans for tonight.”

“Plans?”

“Yeah. Is it just you?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Well, maybe it could be us having dinner tonight?” Ronald was used to getting the dates he wanted and even used to the rare rejections, but the look in Thea’s eyes after asking her to dinner nearly terrified him. He couldn’t place many of the emotions suddenly swirling in her emerald orbs but fear was one that stood out most to him. “Y’ okay?”

“I’m fine.” she stood up. “And no thank you.” her tone dropped the cheeriness, replaced with a a bit of the fear he saw in her eyes mixed with a pain he couldn’t place, and then she was gone, leaving Ronald bewildered and heartbroken.

Sighing, he had nothing else to do but return to work himself. “A strange concept here.” Eliza said from where she and William stood on the eight floor, overlooking the railing. “I’ve not heard of someone still retaining love here.”

William had his hands folded behind his back, his right hand throbbing faintly. “It does, oddly enough.” he said, watching Ronald slump toward the exit. “It’s not as uncommon as you think.” he allowed his eyes to soften a tad. “Perhaps finding love here is better then finding it alive.”

“Why’s that?”

“We do not die through natural means. Yes, demons are the cause of our understaffed issue, but otherwise, here would be idea to find a partner.”

“I suppose you have a point.” she flicked her attention to her clipboard. “Speaking of demon, have you heard of the new one that destroyed your reapers scythe?”

“I have and I have two witness who claim to have seen the same demon.”

“Why hadn’t you contacted the Council about this important issue?”

William gripped tighter to his right hand, the pain beginning to increase. “I simply ran out of time before I could do so.”

“I will have to count that as a strike against your district.” she said, striking a tally mark on the paper. “You do know that ten of these mean we have some…readjusting to do, don’t you?”

“Of course.” he bowed his head. “Forgive my carelessness.”

Nodding, she stepped back from the railing. “Now, let us continue before we waste anymore daylight.”

 

_______________________________________

 

To Ronald, rejection as a foreign word. He wouldn’t go around calling himself the best date a woman could catch, but he knew there were few woman that turned him down. What really bothered him about Thea’s rejection was the way she looked. He’d never heard of fear being associated with a dinner date.

With his good mood ruined for the evening, he wandered around the office building, checking in with Eric and Grell before his feet carried him to the nearly empty Library. Up the stairs his feet continued to take him until he ended up at the front entrance where the Undertaker statue stood, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Thea just creating a portal to mortal London. “Hey.” he said.

She froze up, slowing turning around, crossing her arms defensively. “Yes?” she asked, warily watching him.

Ronald held up his hands, cautiously walking to her. “I didn’t mean t’ offended y’ or anythin’ when i asked y’ t’ dinner.”

She took one step back, a long silence passing between them before she turned her back to him, shaking her head. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Coming up to stand beside her, he avoiding pushing her for a proper answer or apology, instead asking, “Where y’ goin’?”

“Cemetery?”

He grimaced. “Family?”

“Mother.”

He looked between her and the portal. “Can I come with y’?”

“Why?”

“I don’t like y’ bein’ out there with that new demon on the loose.” with no answer, she walked past him into mortal London. Taking that as invitation, Ronald followed, walking in stride with her.

London was rather quiet when the sun was gone, with the odd clopping of hooves and the wheels of carriages rolling over the cobbled stone roads. The gas lamps gave the city a wonderful warm yellow glow in the autumn night. “It’s petty out.”

“Very.”

He glanced at Thea. “I…” he crossed his arms, shrugging with his right shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

She still didn’t acknowledge his apology, Ronald believing he’d truly ruined his chances with the reaper until she stopped to wipe her eyes, shaking her head. “No…I’m sorry. i know you didn’t mean anything bad when you asked me to dinner, it’s just…I’ve never…” she swallowed. “Nothing, never mind.”

He gave her a soft expression, squeezing her shoulder. “It’s okay.” She nodded, wiping her eyes with the hem of her sleeve. Wanting to cheer her up, he suddenly said, “I was gonna put a rabbit in Mr. Spears’s office.”

Her head whipped to him. “What?”

“A rabbit. Was gonna let it loose so he could have some company.”

Slowly, a smile was beginning to form over her lips. “Why a rabbit?”

“I thought somethin’ fluffy and cute would help.” he smiled. “And I love rabbits. My favourite animal.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I like their little twitching noses and fluffy tails.”

A small laugh escaped her. “They are cute.”

Feeling like he mended his mistake, they continued on with Ronald being sure to do as much as he could to make her smile. It wasn’t until a familiar, awful, scent forced them to stop. Demon. “Shit.” he grabbed her hand, yanking her into the alley.

When the scent grew closer, Thea tugged his arm. “Roof.”

Agreeing, they jumped up, hiding themselves in the shadow of the smokestack, watching over the edge to see two demons enter the alley. One was short, the other tall, both disguised as lanky, boney, underfed humans. The shorter one had gold eyes, the taller ones black as coal. “They were here.” the taller one hissed. “So close to a meal.”

The shorter one scowled. “Residual scent. Tch.” the demon scratched at its cheek, leaving behind red welts. “When we get the Red Record, we’ll be able to walk about without these damn skins.”  he gazed at the taller demon. “Has that _reaper_ made any progress?”

“From what I’ve heard, it’s going to take a long time to get it. Apparently reapers are smarter then we thought, hiding it away even from their own kind.”

The shorter demon flicked out his claws, growling. “I say we murder the reaper and use his body to get into the realm.”

Thea grasped Ronald’s forearm tightly; the taller demon ramming the shorter one into the brick wall, holding it there by its neck. “ _He’d_ throw us back to Hell if we did.”

“It’d be worth it for that damned book!” it punched the taller demon away.

The taller demon refrained from full on attacking the shorter, merely glaring instead. “Come. We have other work to do but keep this reaper scent noted. We may have found a portal.”

They remained dead still until they were sure the demons had gone, Ronald swallowing thickly. “What the hell was that about?”

“I-I don’t know.” she tightened her grip on his arm. “We need to alert Mr. Spears about this.”

Ronald agreed, standing to create them a portal when turning around allowed the punch thrown to connect with his jaw, sending him flying from the roof to slam to the stone ground below, the back of his head smacking the ground with a sickening sound. Thea hardly had time to dodge the punch at her, ducking to avoid Ronald’s fate. It seemed the demons had found their scent again.

Jumping down before she could be thrown, she fell to her knees at Ronald’s side, eyes quickly flicking between his head and slowly forming pool of blood under it. “Ronald!” she yelled, shaking him. “Wake up!”

“We did smell the dead.” the taller demon said, both now on the ground mere steps before them. “Finally. I haven’t had a meal in years.”

“I get the pretty one.” the shorter demon licked his lips.

A shill violently ran down Thea’s spine, wracking her brain for any idea until remembering Ronald always carried around a pocket knife shaped death scythe. Frantically she began searching his pockets as the demons stalked closer, knowing the anticipation for the meal always made it ten times better then insatiately devouring it. Finally, she found it in Ronald’s trouser pocket, whipping it out just in time as the shorter demon launched at her. Flicking the blade out, the tip was shoved through the creatures right eye, the weapon burying itself deep in the demons eye socket, Thea grimacing at the blood streaming down her hand and forearm.

Violently, the demon thrust itself back, the eye ripping out, stuck on the tip of the blade. “Bitch.” it scowled.

Thea shook off the eye, adjusting her grip to keep it tight in her hands. “Leave or you’ll lose your other eye.”

The taller demon began coming toward them, dragging its claws along the stone wall. “You don’t have much leverage,” it began, “see, what we plan to do to you now is tear you apart, limb from limb, then-”

“Tear out her eyes and shove them down her throat.” the shorter demon bit.

“I suppose we could.” he dropped his attention to Ronald. “Or tear out his eyes and force her to choke on them.”

“You aren’t touching me or Ronald!”

“Ronald, hm?” in a blink, he was right before her, cupping her chin in his sharp claws. “What is your name then, beauty?”

Hardly thinking, she spouted, “Eliza.”

The demon cocked its head but Thea didn’t allow it to speak. With the creature being so close, she did as she threatened to do, stabbing the weapon through the demons eye. However, the demon did not cower back. Instead, the one working eye locked with hers, its hand reaching up to cover hers that grasped the handle. “You’ve made a poor choice.”

Shoving the blade deeper, she simultaneously pushed herself back. The demon easily ripped out the dagger, what left of the eye remained in its socket, blood flowing down its cheek. Shaking its head, the demon threw the weapon away. “You must have a better scythe then that.” her only response was hooking her arms under Ronald’s, dragging him until her back hit the wall at the end of the alley. “You don’t? Well, this will make an easy dinner.” indeed, she had no scythe as she worked behind the tills of the realm. Reapers who did not reap souls were not required to have one.

When the demon launched at her, she squeezed her eyes shut, flinching when she heard a slashing sound followed by something cutting through flesh. Feeling no pain, she feared the demon attacked Ronald first, forcing her eyes to flash open. Instead, she was relieved to see Alan standing before them, the demons hand on the ground, Alan’s scythe held ready at his side. “I knew I scented beasts.” he spat, making Thea realize, she and Ronald couldn’t sense the demons at all when they snuck up on them…

The demon admired where it lost its hand as it said, “you’re willing to fight us for them?” the human form of the creatures began disintegrating, revealing scaly back skin, beady red eyes; true demons.

“Of course.” Alan said. “You creatures have no concept of caring and it’d be a waste trying to explain.”

Ready to attack, the demons were taken aback when something else mixed with Alan’s scent. “A sick reaper.” it thought aloud. “How interesting. I haven’t met an infected reaper before. How long until your sickness takes you?”

“Wouldn’t you care to know.” Alan made the first move, leaping to attack as Thea could only watch. She wished she could help but knew even if she could, she had Ronald to look after. She could only admire Alan, impressed with how well he knew how to fight. As she said before, he and Eric were a well oiled machine on the field but alone, Alan held his own very well.

It wasn’t until the sickness the demon mentioned, did Alan fall. If he was honest with himself, he could feel it rearing its ugly head the moment he landed in front of the demons. It didn’t take very long for his illness to take over his body; suddenly his lungs and heart constricted, his muscles freezing up, spikes of burning pain spearing through his chest. The pain was something he knew too well but feeling the tips of his fingers burn with the same feeling in his chest alarmed him. He cried out, dropping to his knees, clutching at his chest. Uncaring for the reapers pain, the demons easily subdued him. Thea’s voice caught in her throat as Alan lay on the cold stone, wheezing, his glassy eyes staring into the distance. “Pathetic.” the taller demon said. “Wasting your life on those idiots.”

The shorter demon gathered Alan into its arms, a mock embrace as it stroked its hand down Alan’s cheek. “I’m not sure a sick soul can taste very good but you’ll be dinner and them, desert.” it licked it lips, glancing at Thea and Ronald. Alan struggled the best he could, his body barely listening to his instructions. His head was forced back, the shorter demon prying his mouth open to kiss him, its tongue delving down his throat.

Refusing to sit and watch, she scoured the ground for anything, finding a sizeable rock. Taking it tightly into her hand. Using all the strength she could muster, she whipped the object at the demon, crashing right into its temple, jostling the creature from Alan’s mouth. “Leave him!” she demanded.

The taller demon was the one to approach her, waggling its finger. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Trying to quickly find another rock, a familiar scythe slashed across the sky, decapitating the creature.

The shorter demon was startled seeing the powerful reaper. It shoved Alan away before running to disappear into the dark. Eric turned from Thea and Ronald to approach Alan, crouching down next to him. “Alan.” he said, easing the smaller reaper into his arms. “Are ye alrigh’?”

Alan blinked up at Eric, his vision blurry from the tears that hadn’t spilled. “Eric…?”

“Aye, ’s me.”

“Thea, Ronald…are they…?”

“They’re fine.” he glanced over his shoulder, frowning now seeing the blood. “…Thea’s fine.” Alan struggled to sit up, Eric supporting his back. “Now, are ye alrigh’?”

“Dizzy…” he swallowed, looking at his hands. “M-My fingers…”

Eric’s brow furrowed. he grabbed one of his hands, bringing it up to nuzzle it against his cheek. “Wha’ abou’ ‘em?”

“They…they hurt.”

Eric froze. “Did ye ‘ave an attack?” Alan’s downcast eyes answered for him, anger bubbling in his chest. Tightening his grip on Alan’s hand, he growled out, “ye took on two fuckin’ demons on yer own an’ ye ‘ad an attack. Yer a fuckin’ moron, Alan.”

Alan tried to force a stern face. “I-I wasn’t about to let them d-die!” his chest constricted again forcing him to cough. “N-Not without trying!”

Seeing Alan still in some pain, Eric closed his eyes, wiling the anger out of him. “Dun strain yerself.” he said when he opened his eyes again.

“What happened here?”

The voice of their superior entered their ears. Sure enough, William and Eliza stood in the entrance of the alley, odd worrying in both their eyes. “Demons.” Thea said. “Ronald hit his head and Alan had an attack.”

William narrowed his eyes, cussing the damned creatures. He approached Thea and Ronald, setting his scythe aside to take Ronald from Thea’s arms, gently easing him up to check the back of his head. Blood had stained parts of his hair, William able to see the broken skin. “I see.” securing his arms under Ronald’s knees and an arm against his back, he proceeded to lift the blonde up, only faltering when he caught sight of Thea’s necklace, the silver dove glinting slightly in the moonlight. “…we’ll get them both to the infirmary.” he said, standing. Thea held the dove in her palm, seeing how William stared at it before slipping it under her shirt.

Eric helped Alan to his feet, the reaper determined to walk on his own, though Eric forcing his help to be a crutch for the brunette. “Ye sure yer alrigh’ tae walk?”

“Yes.”

Eliza frowned at all of them then found Ronald’s cast away pocketknife. She slipped it into her pocket as Thea picked up William’s scythe, Alan’s scythe being used as a cain to help walk. She created a portal for them, Thea’s eyes never leaving Ronald’s unconscious form. “Now, please explain everything that happened.” Eliza said when they were in the infirmary, William having set Ronald on one of the beds, Alan sitting on the edge of another one.

Thea took a deep breath, giving her best explanation she could, returning William his scythe as she did. “And…the weirdest thing of all, is we couldn’t sense the demons when they were so close to us.” she finished.

William tightened his grip on the metal pole of his scythe. “Pardon? You couldn’t sense them?”

“No sir.”

He knew there was something strange about only him being able to know Sebastian was there when they first met at the manor. “We’ll look into that right away.” Eliza said. “It wouldn’t do for our reapers to be constantly ambushed.”

“Good news, he’ll just be out of it for an hour longer and the only lasting side effect of this head wound will be periodically headaches ranging in intensity.” the doctor said, getting their attention. He had wrapped gauze around Ronald’s forehead. He nodded to William. “Not unlike you, Mr. Spears.”

William hid the sympathy for Ronald. “Thank you doctor.”

He sighed, approaching Alan and Eric. “Now, let’s take a look at you, Mr. Humphries.” he stood in front of Alan. “What happened?”

“I…I had an attack and then my souls was nearly devoured.”

The doctor frowned, gesturing to Alan’s torso. “Please, let’s see the damage done.”

Eric’s eye twitched slightly when Alan had trouble unbuttoning his clothing, his fingers fumbling with every button. “‘ere.” Eric knelt before him, easily flicking open each button. “Also said ‘is fingers ‘urt.” Eric added, opening the last button on Alan’s white dress shirt.

William had known about Alan’s sickness, knew about the makings it left, but he, just as Thea and Eliza were, was amazed by how severe they looked. The sign of Alan’s sickness came in the form of vine like makings etched under his skin, following along his veins. They had crawled up past Alan’s navel from where they had begun around Alan’s ankle. Concerned about the pains in his fingers, the doctor removed Alan’s gloves, revealing they had begun sprouting from the tips of fingers, stopping just as they reached his palm. They closely reminded anyone who saw them of thorns, thus why the revived the name, “The Thorns of Death…” Eliza whispered, amazed to see something that was only meant to be a wise tale.

“They’re worsening.” the doctor summarized after looking over Alan’s fingers. “You’re going to need to be more careful.”

“I…understand.” he had shied away from the eyes on him, hugging himself when he could. “What about…my soul?”

“Well, you’re up and moving, aren’t you? That’s a good sign they weren’t able to devour any of it. However, since his souls was attacked, it’s best if he reaps with a partner to keep hunting demons away.”

“He already does.” William said, nodding to Eric. “That won’t be a problem.”

“Excellent. Then there shouldn’t be any other problems. Give it a month before your soul is hidden again.”

“Yes sir.” Alan whispered.

Eliza couldn’t help but walking up to Alan and gently taking his hand to squeeze it. “What you did was brave, Mr. Humphries, fighting for your friends.”

“Thank you miss.”

She then focused on Eric. “And…thank you, for arriving when you did.”

Eric shifted awkwardly on his feet. “Yeah, well, I dinnae wanna see any o’ them massacred.”

She reached to do the same as she did with Alan but fell short when she thought against it, letting her arm drop back to her side. “Thank you.” she returned to William’s side. “We best discuss these issues.”

“Agreed.” he turned his attention to Thea. “Will you be here until Knox wakes up?”

“Yes sir.”

“Then tell him I’ll ease his paperwork to allow him to rest a bit more.”

“Thank you sir.”

William was leading the way from the infirmary when he froze up. His hand burned nearly like Sebastian was squeezing it again. “William?” Eliza asked. “Are you alright?”

He quickly glanced around, seeing no demon in sight but new the damned creature was close. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” he coughed into his hand, fighting back the urge to shove his hand into a bucket of ice. “Let’s make quick haste to my office.” There were no other questions, despite her skeptical look.

They were gone and Eric helped Alan back to his feet, supporting the younger reaper as they headed to leave as well. “Give Ron our regards when ‘e wakes up.”

“Will do Eric.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile before disagreeing through the infirmary doors. “Eric, I’m fine. I can walk on my own.” Alan protested.

“Ye sure?”

“Yes.”

Reluctantly, Eric removed Alan’s arm from around his shoulders, stepping back to see if Alan could. To Alan’s frustration, he stumbled too much for Eric meaning the blonde was back being his crutch. “Damn it, I-”

“‘m no’ listnin’. We’re gettin’ ye back tae yer office an’ yer gonna sleep this off.”

Alan grumbled, giving up and leaning against Eric though he couldn’t be angry considering Eric did save his, Thea’s and Ronald’s life…”Eric?”

“Aye?”

“Do you…believe Thea when she said they couldn't sense the demons that were _right_ behind them?”

Eric hesitated before answering, “I do. I mean, why would she lie? She doesnnae ‘ave a reason too.”

Alan nodded, hobbling toward the lift. “Good point.” he swallowed, groaning when the aftershock of his attack began to settle in. “I need to lie down soon. My body’s had enough of today.”

“‘ang on, we’re almost tae the lift.” he ran his hand over Alan’s back. “Why dun I make ye a nice warm cup o’ tea an’ maybe a massage tae ease ye tae sleep?” he offered.

Alan moaned softly at the thought. “Please.”

“Then c’mon lad. let’s get ye sorted.”

Sebastian watched them from his hiding spot. When the door to lift closed after them, he scowled to himself, clutching his hands tightly in fists. It seemed he was no longer the only one lusting after the Record.

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so, chapter 1 done. Ah, please bear with me while I update this. I hope you enjoyed!


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